Fame and Fortune
by aquajogger
Summary: A school year half over, a band in the making, a group of friends determinded to see it through to small town fame. PG13 for swearing, high schoolers, and future lime.
1. Tests and Agreements

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Knights. I also don't own a band. I do,  
  
however, own a math text book. What a great thing to own instead of  
  
Thats. *sighs*  
  
***  
  
Rath brushed a couple strands of light hair out of his face, brow  
  
furrowed in concentration, a small bead of sweat running down his  
  
pointed nose.  
  
He was seated at a small desk made out of some sort of cheap wood  
  
substitute, a sheet of paper in front of him and a pencil in his hand.  
  
Glancing up, he snuck a look around the classroom, searching for his  
  
friends.  
  
Hastily written in chalk on the blackboard at the front of the room were  
  
the words, Quiet! Test in process! in their teachers untidy scrawl, and a  
  
student's note at the bottom to a friend in another class.  
  
He spotted Rune sitting near the front of the class in a desk off to the  
  
side, rapidly writing on his own test, then turning the paper over, starting  
  
on the questions on the back.  
  
Rath glanced back down at his test. He had finished six of the fifteen  
  
questions on the front, and hadn't even begun thinking about the other  
  
side yet.  
  
Mentally groaning, he caught sight of his other friend, a boy a few months  
  
older than him by the name of Thats. He smiled, when he saw that he  
  
appeared to be as stumped as he was, then noticed that the other boy  
  
was not actually stuck, simply zoning out and staring at a spot on the  
  
wall.  
  
Sighing, he turned back to his own paper, half wondering if he should do  
  
something to snap his friend out of his trancelike state.  
  
Deciding against it(he normally got out of it before the period was over  
  
anyway), Rath completely immersed himself in his work, not looking up  
  
again until the bell rang, fifteen minutes later.  
  
As the raucous sound filled the room, signaling the end of the  
  
period, the end of the day, and the end of the thirty point exam, Rune  
  
stood, picking up his backpack as well. He had been done with his test for  
  
the past five minutes, but had not turned it in until now. He walked the  
  
eight feet to the teacher's desk, then placed his paper top down on the  
  
already considerably large pile. Shifting under his bag's weight, he waited  
  
for his two friends by the door.  
  
"Oh. Sorry," He said, turning around and apologizing to the teenaged girl  
  
he had bumped into.  
  
"It's ok," She said, waving a hand in front of her face and smiling at him.  
  
She then turned back to her friend, a girl with long blonde hair, flowing  
  
freely around her shoulders.  
  
"You were saying, Tintlett?" He caught her say as they walked off,  
  
chatting.  
  
"You chick watching?"  
  
He jumped a foot in the air, or would have, had he not been wearing a  
  
heavy backpack.  
  
"Thats!" He turned around, glaring at his grinning friend.  
  
"Hey, just wondering," Thats said, raising his hands, palms facing Rune in  
  
a show of peace, then shifted over to the side as Rath joined the two of  
  
them.  
  
"We going?"  
  
Rune nodded, exiting the classroom as Rath began ranting about their  
  
history exam.  
  
They walked around the large white building containing many of their  
  
classes, then across the lawn, and finally down to the school's parking  
  
lot, where they stopped and stood next to a newly repainted picnic  
  
bench, dropping their bags down on top of it.  
  
Rune interrupted the other two's complaints, pulling down his light gray  
  
jacket sleeve and commenting, "The bus arrives in five minutes. Are we  
  
agreed on what we discussed last night?"  
  
He looked at his friends as they nodded, Rath vigorously, and Thats more  
  
reluctantly.  
  
"Thats?" He questioned.  
  
"It just seems like a big waste of time," Thats said, shaking a crick out of  
  
his neck, "I mean, what are the chances? Tons of people will be trying, so  
  
why should we even bother. And then if we do get it," He made a face of  
  
disgust, "Hoo, boy. If we do get it, then what? More work. It's a lot of  
  
work for what? A little bit of fame, maybe a chance to brush shoulders  
  
with the elite. But soon enough it will end, and we'll be back here. It  
  
doesn't seem worth it." He said with the air of someone repeating an  
  
argument for the final time.  
  
"Thats," Rune started, but was cut off by Rath.  
  
"What do you mean, not worth it? It's the dream of every teenager in all  
  
of America! And now we are getting the chance to try, and you say it's  
  
not worth it?" He glared at the other boy.  
  
"It's not my dream," Thats stated stubbornly, crossing his arms and  
  
turning his head to the side, eyes closed.  
  
"What Rath means," Rune interjected helpfully, "Is that even if it isn't  
  
your dream, it is his. And we would really appreciate your help."  
  
He watched as the brown-haired boy stayed stock still, only opening his  
  
eyes to look back at the other two.  
  
Rune saw his resolve waver slightly, and added in, "Besides. If we do  
  
win-which if we start practicing, I'm sure we will-I'm sure we'll get some  
  
other benefits."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
"Oh, we'll be missing some school and we will probably get out early on  
  
other days."  
  
He noticed his friend's eye's light up and continued, "Then there's the  
  
traveling, that will be fun; our pictures in the paper; the excuse for why  
  
we didn't turn in our homework, and," He paused for effect, "We can do  
  
all our practicing at my house," He let this sink in.  
  
"My mother loves having people over for dinner."  
  
This did it.  
  
Thats blinked, his eyes lighting up. He grabbed his bag and slung it over  
  
one shoulder as the bus drove up.  
  
"Well, what are we waiting for, then? We should get started if we plan on  
  
making it to auditions next Saturday!"  
  
He picked up Rath's bag as well and tossed it to him, then waited as his  
  
two friends gathered their remaining stuff and made his way over to the  
  
large yellow vehicle, skipped the second step on the bus, and dropped a  
  
dollar fifty into the plastic money box, already half filled with dollar bills,  
  
quarters, and dimes.  
  
The three walked halfway down the bus, then split up to sit in two  
  
different rows, Thats and Rune in one, and Rath on the seat behind them.  
  
"So how did we have it set up?" Thats asked cheerily, all reluctance  
  
towards the idea forgotten, dropping his bag on the floor and kicking it  
  
over to underneath the window.  
  
"I believe it was Rath as lead," The blonde boy said, waiting for his friend  
  
to slide into his place, then sitting down next to him, carefully placing his  
  
navy bag on the floor.  
  
"You were backup, and I had drums," He finished, turning around to make  
  
certain he had it right by checking with Rath.  
  
As the boy nodded his agreement, Rune turned back to Thats.  
  
"I was thinking we could practice after school; every day if necessary this  
  
week, for maybe an hour or two. Then we would have to really throw  
  
ourselves into it this weekend, to make up for all the time we'll be missing  
  
by going to school during the week. I hope you are prepared to squeeze  
  
in some more practice during next week," He said, "I know it's a lot, but  
  
it's the only way we can get enough done to be ready in seventeen  
  
days."  
  
He was relieved to see that both boys nodded, no sign of any previous  
  
disagreements with the tight schedule showing on either of their faces.  
  
"Good, and Rath," He swiveled around to look at the younger boy, "Has  
  
already dropped off the equipment at my house."  
  
Thats looked surprised.  
  
"How'd you do that?"  
  
"Came by last night," Was Rath's reply, "I've got everything stored away  
  
in his basement. Speakers, microphone, some rough drafts," He grinned,  
  
"Even Deus."  
  
Rune ignored Thats' rolling of two green and brown orbs and spoke.  
  
"And I already had my guitar down there, and I'm sure we can find you  
  
something to practice on, Thats."  
  
Thats nodded and reached down to his bag, zipping open the second  
  
smallest pocket and retrieving a sleek metallic CD player and a set of  
  
headphones. He popped them on and pressed the play button.  
  
"So what sort of stuff are we playing?" He asked, his voice slightly louder  
  
than normal due to the high volume of his music.  
  
Rune and Rath looked at each other.  
  
Although this had been their idea, they had been hoping that Thats  
  
would have had an idea for the sort of music, mainly since, well...  
  
Neither one of them knew exactly what they were doing.  
  
"So?" Thats pressed, "What sort of stuff? Pop, metal, rock?" Looking at  
  
their embarrassed faces, he blanched.  
  
"Good crap. Don't tell me we're doing folk."  
  
"Well," Rune said, suddenly very interested in a graffiti scrawl on the seat  
  
in front of him, "Not exactly."  
  
"You see," Rath said, "We don't know what we're doing."  
  
Thats stared at them, then quickly pressed pause and pulled his  
  
headphones off.  
  
"Wait, I thought you said you had the songs written up already?"  
  
"No," Rath looked out the window, watching as suburban houses flew  
  
past, "I said I had the drafts written. Not the songs."  
  
"Actually, what we have, Thats, is a bunch of scribbles on a few sheets of  
  
folder paper," Rune admitted nervously.  
  
Thats stared at Rune.  
  
"You're shitting me."  
  
When no one responded, he ran a hand through his brown hair.  
  
"And we have seventeen days?"  
  
The boy behind him nodded, a lock of light hair falling into his eyes.  
  
"Well, I think..." He trailed off.  
  
Rath looked hopeful.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"We are majorly screwed."  
  
This said, the junior popped his headphones back on and leaned against  
  
the back of the seat, closing his eyes as the sound of music filled his ears.  
  
Rune stared at the teenager next to him, then, worry written between his  
  
brows, turned to the one behind him.  
  
"I hate to say it, but he's right."  
  
***  
  
There, first chapter finished.  
  
If I get positive feedback on this, I shall write more.  
  
If not, that's ok.  
  
I need to be working on my next chapter for a Gundam Wing fic anyway. 


	2. Second Hand Loans and Brandname Guitars

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Knights. They belong to the wonderful  
  
Miss Ohkami. A castle full of lovely Dragon Fighters, Officers, Knights, and  
  
a Lord...Not to mention the Demons. Ah...  
  
I envy her.  
  
Kat: I should have known you'd review. Well, anyway, thanks for the  
  
idea! ^_^ It all started when you were talking about Rath singing "I Hate  
  
Everything About You"...  
  
Random Person: Oh, yay! Another review! Thanks a bunch! And... What's  
  
an IC?*hangs head in shame of her stupidity*  
  
Seletua: Thanks for the review! ^^ I've got what's gonna happen next  
  
planned out... for the most part. Updated! And I love your name.  
  
Lisa: Yay! It's you again! I love those pictures too... And you were REALLY  
  
good at Pops!  
  
***  
  
Rune shoved a large cardboard box out of his way, pushing it three  
  
feet to the side. It was heavy, probably filled with molded and  
  
waterlogged crap that no one wanted or remembered anymore, but had  
  
never gotten around to throwing out.  
  
He stopped when it hit the cement wall making up one of the four sides of  
  
his basement.  
  
He turned around, "Rath? You think this is big enough?"  
  
Rath scrutinized the open space in front of him, one hand on his chin.  
  
"Move that box too, Rune. Make it just a little bigger."  
  
Rune sighed, leaning on an old ping-pong table. He'd been running  
  
around down here, pushing boxes and piles of junk off to the sides ever  
  
since they reached his house.  
  
Wiping his forehead with the back of his hand, he resignedly walked  
  
across the cleared space to the large box Rath wanted moved.  
  
Placing one shoulder against it, he began to push the heavy object  
  
towards the wall and away from what Rath called the "Practice Area".  
  
It was slow work; whatever was inside weighted at least a hundred  
  
pounds. He felt pressure exerted on the box next to him, and suddenly it  
  
slid across the floor with relative ease. Surprised, he looked to the side  
  
and saw Thats straightening up, dusting off his hands.  
  
The other boy grinned.  
  
"You looked like you needed some help," He explained.  
  
He then sat down on the newly cleared floor, leaning back against the  
  
box.  
  
"So Master Rath, what would you have us do next?"  
  
Rath blinked at them, startled.  
  
"I only wanted a space large enough to practice," He said, sounding a  
  
little hurt.  
  
Rune walked over to the large black containers near his basement stairs.  
  
He opened the second largest one and pulled out an electric guitar; a  
  
light blue design of flames licked the silver body, almost seeming to move  
  
as Rune carried it back over to Thats.  
  
"Here. My guitar. You can practice on this."  
  
The brown haired boy grinned, taking it from him and running his fingers  
  
over it, checking it thoroughly.  
  
"Thanks. I guess this is what you meant by, 'we can find something for  
  
you to practice on'." He looked the instrument over and whistled lowly.  
  
"Nice. In good shape, too. Where'd you get it?"  
  
Rune smiled at the complement.  
  
"I got it at that little music shop downtown. The one across from that  
  
picture place where you got your passport photo taken. It was for my  
  
thirteenth birthday."  
  
Thats looked back up at him, a question forming on his lips, when a sound  
  
somewhat like a small explosion caused them both to turn around and  
  
look at Rath, startled.  
  
Rath was kneeling on the floor, a cord in each hand, and was apparently  
  
in the process of hooking up the speakers he had brought.  
  
"Rune?" Rath looked up at the older boy, "I can't get this to work."  
  
"What?" The blonde strode across the room, "Give it here, Rath. I'll get  
  
it."  
  
As Rune knelt on the floor to inspect the wires and systems, Rath rose.  
  
"He gave you the guitar?" Rath asked, taking note of the instrument in  
  
Thats' hands.  
  
"Then I'll go get mine and we can warm up," He said, squatting among  
  
the black cases. He picked one of them up and carried it carefully to the  
  
far side of the cleared area, where he jumped up and sat on what  
  
appeared to be a old and dusty dining table.  
  
Holding the case on his lap, he undid the three metal clasps holding the  
  
case closed, then slowly opened the lid.  
  
Thats leaned back against the cement wall behind him and rolled his  
  
eyes. He watched as his friend's face lit up at the sight of what was  
  
before him. Sighing, he scuffed his foot against the ground in a bored  
  
manner, almost, but not quite kicking the open can of soda in front of him.  
  
He jammed his hands into the pockets of his dark brown pants, waiting  
  
for Rune to finish setting up the speakers so they could begin and get  
  
practice over with.  
  
He didn't have to wait long.  
  
"Hey, guys," Rune called, straightening up and waving them over, "It's all  
  
set. We ready to go?"  
  
Thats nodded, carefully stepping over the objects on the floor and walked  
  
over, Rune's guitar still in his arms.  
  
They waited as Rath slid off the table and, after closing his case, walked  
  
over to them.  
  
He had the strap attached to the guitar swung around his shoulder for  
  
safety and was holding the instrument itself so that it wouldn't hit  
  
anything and scratch it's glossy exterior.  
  
If you asked Thats, the boy would say that his friend was being overly  
  
cautious with his prized possession. However, even he could see why he  
  
was being so careful.  
  
The artificial lighting glinted off the golden cursive near the tuning keys,  
  
revealing the instument's brand name, Draqueen.  
  
The boy nodded as he noticed, not for the first time, the name on Deus.  
  
It wasn't exactly a common brand, one of the more expensive ones,  
  
actually. They were well known for their quality, however, so if you were  
  
really into this sort of thing it would be a good brand to search for.  
  
Thats grinned, inwardly laughing, as he glanced down at the guitar he  
  
was using.  
  
A spankin' new brand name instrument compared to somebody's hand-  
  
me down.  
  
Guess who was more into this sort of thing.  
  
***  
  
Review, please? I'll be getting to the girls next chapter, just sit tight and  
  
ignore me if I say anything stupid. 


	3. Detentions and Judges

I got it! IC! In character, right? *beams at brilliance* And  
  
I hope to. Nothing annoys me more than a story that is OOC(Unless it is  
  
_damn_ funny because of it).  
  
Kat: Oh, wow. Nice guitar.*pictures in mind's eye* And I already  
  
answered your questions over AIM, but yeah, sure!  
  
Jaid Skywalker: Yes...I actually didn't realize how nice they were until you  
  
pointed it out to me. ^^ Someone else found me here! ^^  
  
Daemaethor: I'm trying to get a shout out to you...but don't know which  
  
one of my stories you are reading. So I'm just sending you a message on  
  
both of them. Basicly what I wanted to say was thanks! I really  
  
appreiciate your support!  
  
Silvermoonstar-Tenshi: Nice name! ^_^ I'm assuming you read this story,  
  
but, like with Daemaethor, I don't know, so I'll put up a message on both.  
  
Now... Where oh _where_ have I heard your name before?*does quick  
  
search* I can't figure it out...*cries* Help! I'm going INSANE!  
  
***  
  
"Aiiyah."  
  
Kitchel leaned back in her chair, tilting it over at a dangerous angle,  
  
causing the student seated behind her to wonder if he should do  
  
something before the hard floor below them was stained with blood and  
  
emergency workers were rushing the teenaged girl to the hospital.  
  
She stared at the cealing, debating whether she should count the  
  
number of tiles it contained, before deciding against it.  
  
Sighing, she pulled her chair back down, so that all four of it's feet where  
  
on the ground, then bent down and unzipped her backpack which was  
  
resting on the ground at her boot-clad feet.  
  
She pulled out a battered math text book and an orange pencil case with  
  
a picture of some Japenese cartoon dog on it. Placing these items on her  
  
desk, she opened the text book to a spot about three-fourths down,  
  
retriving a piece of lined notebook paper from within it's pages and  
  
making room for it on the desk as well.  
  
She extracted a shiny green mechanical pencil from it's carrier, twirled it  
  
between her fingers for a few seconds, then clicked it, causing a small  
  
amount of lead to appear at the tip.  
  
Kitchel brushed a strand of light brown hair behind her ear, then after  
  
playing with a small golden hoop earring for a moment, she got to work.  
  
She placed the tip of the pencil on the paper and, glancing at the open  
  
page for refferance, began to write.  
  
Problem one, chapter ten, section seven.  
  
ˆ: 8/3x squared...  
  
She sighed, letting the pencil drop from limp fingers.  
  
This was more boring than she had thought.  
  
Tossing the pencil in the air and catching it before it hit the desk, she  
  
glanced at the wall clock across the almost empty classroom on her right.  
  
3:49.  
  
"Still fourty more minutes to go," She moaned, tilting back in her chair  
  
once again, and running her fingers through her short hair.  
  
"Man..."  
  
She then noticed a pair of large dark blue eyes staring back at her,  
  
specks of green hidden in their depths, the colors seeming to swirl slightly  
  
like a bottomless sea.  
  
She raised the chair back to it's normal position and swiveled around in it,  
  
sitting with one leg on either side of it's back.  
  
"Hey," She said, grinning at the younger boy sitting directly behind her.  
  
"What'er you in for?" She said with the air of someone showing the new  
  
kid around, teaching them the ropes and making sure they don't do  
  
anything too incredibly stupid.  
  
"Me?" He said, startled that a random upperclassman would talk to him.  
  
"I forgot my homework."  
  
"Ah," She said knowingly.  
  
"I've done that. Did that last week. That's when I counted the tiles on the  
  
cealing."  
  
"Really?" He looked impressed, "How many are there?"  
  
"Two hundered and seventy three," She answered prompty, grinning at  
  
him, then adding, "I counted twice."  
  
She looked him over, he appeared to be about half a foot shorter than  
  
she was, putting him at five foot exactly, and was wearing a plain pair of  
  
jeans and sneakers; not the fancy brand name stuff most people donned.  
  
He also wore a light blue t-shirt with a rip in the collar that had been  
  
hastily patched up with a few strips of yellow material, and an old and  
  
worn jeans jacket that perfectly matched the strange blue and green  
  
color of his eyes.  
  
She twitched up one corner of her mouth.  
  
Whether he knew it or not, the colored gel he had used to spike the tips  
  
of his black hair was of the same green as found in both his jacket and  
  
almost abnormally large eyes.  
  
"So, kid. My name's Kitchel."  
  
She held out her hand for him to shake, gripping it firmly as he leaned  
  
across his desk to take it, and giving it a light squeeze before letting him  
  
go.  
  
"I'm Ringleys," He said, leaning back into his chair.  
  
He glanced nerviously at the teacher's desk.  
  
Or possibly at the large metal "No Talking" sign hanging above it.  
  
He spoke, "Isn't he gonna--"  
  
She cut him off, shaking her head.  
  
"Nah, Lykouleon's real nice. For a teacher, that is." Kitchel grinned at  
  
Ringleys.  
  
"So how much longer you got in here?" She asked, looking down at his  
  
own less advanced math homework and wondering why on earth she  
  
couldn't be doing his instead of her own.  
  
He glanced at the clock on the wall.  
  
"Ten more minutes."  
  
Her head snapped up and she stared at him, mouth dropping.  
  
"What?!" She pushed off the back of her chair to lean on her desk, "You  
  
suck! I'm stuck here for half an hour longer than you! Fuck!" She swore,  
  
not noticing as his eyes widened and he scooted his metal chair back a  
  
foot, placing an arms length between him and the desk he was seated at.  
  
The young blonde haired man sitting behind the desk at the front of the  
  
classroom looked up over the top of the paper he was currently grading.  
  
"Kitchel," He started in a tone less warning than ammused.  
  
She turned around to face him, "Got it. I won't scare little Freshmen, your  
  
Lordship, sir!" She grinned and fired off a mock salute, then spun around  
  
in her chair to face the front of the class once again, bending over her  
  
math homework, and trying to get it out of the way before she left  
  
detention for home.  
  
Behind her, Ringleys was looking startled at what had just happened. He  
  
gave up on trying to figure it out, however, and simply bent his head  
  
down, pouring over his homework just as he had been doing before he  
  
had been distracted by the older girl in front of him.  
  
Part-way through his third problem, he fell to daydreaming again,  
  
rambling on in his mind about various topics and half-finished ideas. He  
  
had seen this strange girl before, and had a vauge idea that she hung  
  
out with a pretty blonde friend who happened to share his lunch break on  
  
A-days. He glanced at the back of her head, wanting to confirm his  
  
suspisions, but not confortable staring at her.  
  
He brushed his black and green tinted hair out of his face, sneaking a  
  
peek at the clock, and grinning when he realized he had only to wait for  
  
another minute before he could leave.  
  
He started to pack, snapping shut his math book and his binder, then  
  
opening his back and stuffing them inside, crunching a rouge French test  
  
and a rough draft of an english paper. Pocketing his pencil, he calmly  
  
zipped up his gray backpack, which was covered in a fine layer of dirt-the  
  
result of being dragged across campus multiple times, and hefted it up  
  
onto his desk. He noted the loud thump it made as it was set down, and  
  
the way the desk seemed to groan under it's weight, as if begging him to  
  
remove the weighty object, and carefully removed his legs from beneath  
  
the wooden desk, opting instead to sit sideways in his chair. He boredly  
  
kicked one leg against the white floor, waiting for the clock to release him  
  
from this prison of bordom and let him out into the world.  
  
As the slim red second hand ticked it's way past the twelve at the  
  
top of the clock, he stood up and pulled his bag onto his bag, teetering  
  
slightly under it's weight. He bent down once more to retrive a brown  
  
paper bag, containing the remains of his lunch and headed for the door.  
  
Passing Kitchel's desk, he was startled as the junior reached out  
  
and stopped him by grabbing on the strip of material that adjusted the  
  
straps of his backpack.  
  
"Hey, kid,"  
  
"Ringleys," He said automaticly, correcting her.  
  
"Yeah, Ringleys," She grinned sheepishly, letting go of him and tucking a  
  
strand of hair behind her ears, "You know Cesia, right?"  
  
He nodded, suddenly realizing why the junior looked so familiar, "Uh-huh.  
  
Why?"  
  
"I'm her lab partner. If you see her, can you tell her I'll have the plastic  
  
tubing we need by tomorrow, ok?"  
  
He nodded, making a mental note to do just that.  
  
She beamed at him, "Great! She's gonna kill me if I don't have it, and I  
  
was supposed to meet her to work on it today," She played with her  
  
pencil for a beat before adding, "Oh, and can you tell her that, in  
  
response to her previous question, my answer is no. Got that?"  
  
Ringleys looked at her, confused, "What question?"  
  
She waved a hand at him, avoiding answering his prying, "Don't worry.  
  
She'll get it."  
  
He nodded again, and turned to go, walking towards the door on the far  
  
side of the classroom.  
  
As he passed the teacher's desk, the man sitting behind it glanced up at  
  
him. He was about thirty years old, with very fair hair and light skin. He  
  
was wearing a pair of pressed pants and a white dress shirt, but looked  
  
as though he would be just as comfortable in a pair of dingey jeans and a  
  
ratty old concert tee. He smiled at the student passing by him, causing  
  
the boy to pause and give him a nervous smile in return and a small nod  
  
of the head before he continued walking.  
  
Lykouleon laughed to himself as the room became void of all but  
  
one student. There was silence for a long while, then he looked up at the  
  
remaining girl and spoke.  
  
"So, Kitchel, what did you do today?"  
  
She looked up over her homework, feigning surprise.  
  
"Me, sir? What gave you the idea that I, a perfectly charming young  
  
woman, would ever--" Keeping a straight face was too much work for her  
  
and she broke down into giggles, cutting her words short.  
  
"Well?" He asked again, leaning over his desk curiously.  
  
She grinned at him, "Got caught skipping Tech. today."  
  
He rolled his eyes in an exaggerated manner.  
  
"Kitchel, when WILL you ever learn."  
  
She continued grinning; this was the one teacher she was on such good  
  
terms with, mainly because she had aced his class last year, and had  
  
always liked the man. He was comfortable to be around, and easy to talk  
  
to.  
  
"I know," She admitted, "I should know by now not to hide behind my  
  
classroom," She sighed, "I always get caught."  
  
He laughed once again and looked at the wall clock.  
  
"Looks like you are free to go, Kitchel. See you here same time  
  
tomorrow?" He joked.  
  
"Nah," She said, gathering up her stuff, "Thursday's my day off."  
  
She hoisted her bag onto her back and walked across the class.  
  
"See you later."  
  
"Good bye, Kitchel," He said, making a note on the paper he was grading  
  
with a red pen, "I'll see you later."  
  
As the door closed behind her, Lykouleon leaned back in his chair,  
  
streching his legs out under the desk.  
  
He had a lot of work to do if he planned to get these papers back by  
  
Friday so his students would have the weekend to review for their test  
  
he planned to get ready for Tuesday, which would allow him just enough  
  
time to get everything graded and handed back by Friday, which would  
  
mean...  
  
Which would mean he would have a Saturday free for judging bands at  
  
an office downtown for his old friend's advertising agency.  
  
***  
  
For all you readers... Please review! I know there's gotta be someone out  
  
there who I haven't heard from yet...  
  
Oh, and if anyone wants to give me some information on guitars... I  
  
myself don't actually play one... at all. I'm in band, guys...*sweatdrop*  
  
So if you feel like telling me something before I make a stupid technical  
  
mistake, please feel free to do so.  
  
I'll accept any sort of info, since I know next to zilch.  
  
***  
  
Oh, I just realized this the other day when I was working on this  
  
chapter...  
  
There is another story that was recently created under the Dragon  
  
Knights section of Fanfiction with a similar plot. Apparently it is about the  
  
Lord and Officers starting a punk band. I'm really sorry that I didn't notice  
  
it before and thoughtlessly wrote and posted my story anyway, even  
  
though it is very similar.  
  
And I'm even more sorry that I'm not taking my story down.  
  
I apologize, I really do.  
  
If HungryDemon is reading this, please accept my apology. I know what it  
  
feels like to write a story and then have someone else write another one  
  
with your exact plot...or something very, very close to it.  
  
I'm so sorry.  
  
-Ally  
  
other story! ^^ Haha! I figured it out!*beams*  
  
Review? 


	4. Lab Reports and Hardware Stores

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Knights, Love Hina, or anything else  
  
mentioned! I barely make minimum wage, so don't bother to sue!  
  
Kat: Yes...I like his hair. And something like that. Maybe a bit later. That  
  
last chapter got less accomplished than I thought it would.  
  
Random Person: Oh, yay! I got it right! ^___^  
  
Silvermoonstar-Tenshi: Oh, that's cool. I think I saw a waitress once with  
  
my name... And I figured it out. I saw your review on another story and  
  
went to your bio page because... I don't know. ^_o;;  
  
A figure sat hunched over a white keyboard, her fingers tapping  
  
relentlessly.  
  
"One day," She muttered, reaching out with her right hand and grabbing  
  
a diet pepsi from it's coaster on the desk.  
  
She took a gulp of it's sugary contents, wiping her mouth with the back of  
  
her hand.  
  
"One fucking day to finish this," She complained again, giving a sigh and  
  
slamming the drink back down, sending little drops of soda flying in all  
  
directions.  
  
She sighed, pushing her chair back from the desk and rolling it over to her  
  
backpack. She got off it and unzipped her bag, pulling out a thick science  
  
text book and tossing it onto the desk, noting with satisfaction the loud  
  
noise it made as it hit the plywood. Getting back on the chair, she  
  
propelled herself back to the computer, brushing a strand of jet black hair  
  
out of her face.  
  
She was wearing a short black tank top, the thin material hugging  
  
her frame, and a pair of long black jeans, silver embroidery in a rose and  
  
vine pattern running up the legs. She had dark hair, black all over except  
  
in front where she had dyed her bangs a deep red. Dark eyes looked out  
  
of her fair face, two piercings in each ear.  
  
"Cesia?" A voice called from somewhere in the house, it's sound  
  
echoing off walls and reaching her in the back of her tiny room.  
  
Still typing furiously, she cast a glance down at the text book and paused  
  
in her writing long enough to open it to a page near the back, flipping  
  
pages until she found what she was looking for.  
  
"What is it?" She yelled, never looking up.  
  
Finding what she was searching for, she groped around with one hand on  
  
her desk, finally grabbing onto a highlighter. As she underlined the  
  
sentence she needed with it's bright yellow ink, there was a knock on the  
  
door to her room.  
  
"Come in," She said, casting a distracted glance over her shoulder and  
  
beginning to type again.  
  
The painted white wooden door slowly opened and a smaller boy  
  
stepped in, his mop of black hair falling into his eyes.  
  
"Cesia?" He asked tentatively, not wanting to disturb the older girl and  
  
get her angry with him.  
  
"Yeah?" She said, typing away at a furious pace, "Could you make it  
  
quick, Zoma? I've got this paper due tomorrow and I'm nowhere near  
  
finished."  
  
She sighed and complained in an annoyed way, "Junior year sucks."  
  
Cesia glared at the screen, then continued, "And I've still got to get a  
  
start on my regular homework. Thank God tomorrow's Thursday; I think  
  
I'd kill myself if the week wasn't half over."  
  
She hit the delete key a few times and turned around.  
  
"So what was it?"  
  
"Oh," Zoma shifted his weight guiltily. He was still a Sophomore, the  
  
second lowest of the four high school grades, and had just been  
  
complaining to his friend over the phone about how he had so much to do  
  
that night.  
  
Of course, compared to his sister, he had gotten off scott free.  
  
"Kitchel says sorry about not meeting you today and that she will have  
  
the tubing for science at school tomorrow," He stated.  
  
"Ringleys told me," He said, adding in the last fact for good measure.  
  
"Yeah, ok," His sister spun around in her chair until she was facing the  
  
computer once again, "Thanks."  
  
As she began the chore of writing her paper again, Zoma walked out of  
  
her room and down a short hallway until he reached the door at the end.  
  
He had a small bedroom here, about half the size of his sister's.  
  
He walked inside, grabbing a black cordless phone off the beige sheets  
  
which were lying in a crumpled pile on his bed.  
  
His room was painted white, but much of it's walls were covered  
  
with posters, pictures, and articles cut out of newspapers or magazines.  
  
Above his bed was a poster of a young man in a hot tub with five  
  
teenage girls, the words "Love Hina" blaring off the shiny paper.  
  
Another poster, this one containing a huge iguana basking on a rock, was  
  
placed over a wooden dresser in the far corner of his room.  
  
A newspaper article about television being good for you was pasted on  
  
the wall next to a small bookshelf and another article about the top ten  
  
best rollar coasters in North America.  
  
There was no computer, but a small television set did grace the floor next  
  
to his bed, it's screen no more than ten inches wide. A video game  
  
system was hooked up to it, and a paused image of an elven warrior  
  
swinging a sword through a large purple and green demon was paused  
  
on the screen.  
  
The floor of the room was, like the rooms of most teenage boys, messy.  
  
Clothing was strewn about, and the contents of his backpack were  
  
dumped in a pile next to the door.  
  
Pictures were taped spontaneously over the walls; his school picture; a  
  
photo of himself with two friends; a picture of a dark haired Asian girl,  
  
about his age wearing a loose pink t-shirt and a pair of jeans; Ringleys  
  
and himself on some sort of carnival ride, both screaming.  
  
Zoma spoke into the mouthpiece of the phone.  
  
"Ringleys?" He paused, listening to his friend's response, "I told her."  
  
He was silent as the boy on the other end said something.  
  
"Well, if you remember what it was, I'll tell her. I mean, I can't tell her if  
  
you can't remember, can I?" He paused again.  
  
"Ok. Ok, got it. Right. Bye, Ringleys." He pressed the off button on the  
  
phone and tossed it back down on his bed, then sat on the floor, shoving  
  
a pile of dirty laundry out of the way and picking up his game controller.  
  
He pressed a small red button in the middle of the controller, and soon  
  
became intently focused on the game, noticing nothing around him.  
  
It wasn't until the daylight was fading and his eyes had long  
  
become glazed over that he was snapped out of his trancelike state.  
  
Frowning, he pressed pause and put down the gray controller, cocking his  
  
head to one side and listening intently.  
  
There. There it was again. A faint knocking sound. Sighing, he clambered  
  
to his feet and exited his room. He made his way to the front of the  
  
house and unlocked the door, peeking out into his quickly darkening  
  
driveway.  
  
A slim blonde girl was standing there, smiling down at him. Her curling  
  
golden hair fell in waves about her shoulders and combined with her baby  
  
blue eyes and creamy skin to create the storybook sort of charm that  
  
surrounded her. As Zoma stepped back to let her into the house he  
  
couldn't help but notice how she looked as though she had simply  
  
stepped off the pages of a picture book; one of the ones filled with  
  
dragons, knights, and beautiful princesses.  
  
"Cesia's in her room," He said helpfully, breaking the spell she had cast.  
  
She smiled at him, shrugging out of her white wind breaker and revealing  
  
a cream and pink peasant top blouse underneath.  
  
"Thanks," She said, folding her jacket over her arm, "I need to see her  
  
about science."  
  
Zoma nodded as the older girl walked off, then wandered over to the  
  
kitchen where he opened the fridge and looked inside.  
  
His parents were going to be late, again, so he was supposed to make  
  
something for dinner.  
  
However, he cast a glance around the inside of the refrigerator, there  
  
didn't seem to be much in the way of edibles.  
  
He retrieved a loaf of bread and a package of shredded cheddar cheese,  
  
placing these on the kitchen counter.  
  
Letting the door close behind him, he looked over his find.  
  
"Cesia?" He yelled, hoping she wasn't in one of those moods when one  
  
should not disturb her at all costs, "Cheese sandwiches ok for dinner?"  
  
There was a pause in which he thought he could hear feminine laughter,  
  
and then his sister responded.  
  
"Sure, whatever. Tintlett's staying for supper, all right?"  
  
He nodded, then remembered that she couldn't see him, so he yelled  
  
back that it was and would she like one slice of bread or two?  
  
***  
  
"Your little brother is so sweet!" Tintlett practically gushed, "You're  
  
so lucky! My siblings are evil!" She laughed.  
  
Cesia grinned. She was sitting on her computer chair, pushing it from side  
  
to side as she sat in front of the desk but facing away from it, towards  
  
her bed where her friend sat. Tintlett was seated, legs curled under her  
  
body, on top of a bright red comforter, leaning back with one arm behind  
  
her, propping her up. Her other hand was resting in her lap along with  
  
her neatly folded wind breaker. She was wearing a gauzy looking top and  
  
an ankle length blue floaty skirt, it's material matching the color of the two gems dangling off of her two golden hoop earrings.  
  
"Your sisters are nice!" Cesia protested, leaning out and resting her chin  
  
on her hands.  
  
"But they aren't helpful at all," Tintlett pointed out, "Not like Zoma."  
  
Cesia shrugged, "Whatever. But he is older than them."  
  
"Only by a year!" Tintlett laughed, the sound echoing off the walls like the  
  
peal of a bell.  
  
"True," Cesia said, mentally picturing her friend's little sisters, a pair of  
  
fraternal twin girls.  
  
"They act a lot younger, don't they?"  
  
"Like they are still in Junior High," Tintlett confirmed, then switched  
  
subjects.  
  
"So how far along are you with the lab report?"  
  
Cesia made a face, glaring at the computer, "I'm about," She spun her  
  
chair around so that she faced the screen of the imac once again, "Two-  
  
thirds done. Damn thing's due tomorrow, and Kitchel didn't meet me after  
  
school like she said she would!" She made an exasperated noise and  
  
pulled her legs up off the ground, crossing them and sitting indian-style  
  
on the chair.  
  
"She says she got detention again," Tintlett remarked standing up and  
  
walking over to the desk, "What do you want me to help you with?"  
  
"Fine excuse," Cesia muttered, then said, "The conclusion. I can't make it  
  
long enough," She complained, "And that God-damned teacher won't  
  
accept papers if they are too short."  
  
Tintlett nodded, reaching up and brushing a curling strand of light blonde  
  
hair out of her eyes, "So do you want me to write it for you?"  
  
"Yes, please," Cesia looked grateful, "And could you help me with the  
  
data tables, too?"  
  
"Sure," Tintlett nodded, "May I see your notes?"  
  
The dark haired girl got up and pulled a thick packet of papers from her  
  
full backpack.  
  
"Here. I think the data's somewhere in the middle of that."  
  
Her friend gave no immediate reply, but began sorting through the stack  
  
of notes, pulling out several pages worth towards the late-middle of the  
  
pile.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"No problem," Cesia grinned, "I should be thanking you, you are the one  
  
helping me with my work."  
  
Tintlett smiled, not looking up from the pages of notes, "You're my friend.  
  
Besides, I am in your lab group. I want a good grade on this too, you  
  
know."  
  
"Yeah, I know," Cesia agreed, starting to type again.  
  
"Is Kitchel going to get the tubing?" Tintlett asked suddenly, putting the  
  
papers down.  
  
The girl behind the computer nodded, "Yeah, Zoma told me she said she  
  
was going to tonight."  
  
"Oh, good," Tintlett relaxed, "I was worried I was supposed to."  
  
Cesia stopped typing mid-word.  
  
"That's right," She looked up, surprised, "You were supposed to."  
  
Tintlett blinked.  
  
"Why is she going?"  
  
Both girls looked at each other, then turned to look at Cesia's cell phone,  
  
ringing madly on the floor.  
  
***  
  
Kitchel tried in vain to smother a smile. She was walking down the  
  
aisles in the local hardware store, somewhere between the paint  
  
samples and the various types of wire. The smell of freshly cut wood and  
  
various types of packaging materials was in the air. She breathed it in,  
  
deciding that she wholeheartedly liked it.  
  
She absent-mindedly tugged down the leg of her shorts, looking  
  
around and wondering where it was that she had been told to go.  
  
"He either said aisle 24 or 28," She muttered to herself, attempting  
  
to mentally replay the conversation in her mind.  
  
She had needed help in finding the tubing, so she had gone up to  
  
the young sales assistant walking around; a tall, dark haired college  
  
student who was going for his doctorate, but looked as though he could  
  
be a professional body builder; and had asked him where it was that she  
  
could find half-inch thick rubber or plastic tubing. He had then given her a  
  
reply that she could only vaguely remember, what she remembered more  
  
was that she now knew that he worked at this location after school every  
  
Saturday, Tuesday, and Thursday.  
  
"And I'm not obsessed," She muttered to the little nagging voice in  
  
the back of her mind, "I am simply a teenage girl who knows something  
  
good when she sees it." She gave a short nod, almost not noticing when  
  
she passed by what she had been looking for.  
  
"Here we go," She leaned forward, studying the various types she could  
  
buy, and not remembering if her group had a preference for one type  
  
over the other. Kitchel pulled off the small bag she had slung over her  
  
shoulder and reached inside, retrieving a small flip-top cell phone. She hit  
  
the number 3 key, and watched as it speed-dialed Cesia's cell. As it  
  
started to ring, she put it up to her ear and hoped her friend would pick  
  
up.  
  
"Hey!" She said in a cheery voice, "It's me, 'Chel. I'm at the  
  
hardware store and wanted to know if there was a specific type of tubing  
  
you wanted." She started to listen, then cut the other girl off.  
  
"Yeah, I know. Rubber, half-inch. Anything else?" She paused, "Ok, then.  
  
I'll just get the cheapest."  
  
She took a second looking over the various types of tubing and grabbed  
  
one near the bottom of the rack.  
  
"What was that?" She asked, slightly distracted with her find.  
  
"Oh," She grinned widely, "You wouldn't believe it," She said and started  
  
to walk towards the cashier on the far end of the store, "Let's just say:  
  
college student, works here part time, incredibly attractive."  
  
A random passerby heard squealing coming from the teenaged girl's  
  
metalic green cell phone.  
  
"I know," Kitchel said, sounding very smug, "I found him. But if you want,  
  
come by on either Saturday, Monday, or next Thursday. I'll point him out."  
  
She reached the cashier and dropped the thick roll of tubing on the check-  
  
out counter.  
  
"Yeah. He works here and is a total hottie," She grinned into the phone,  
  
"Ok, I have to go. Say hi to Tintlett for me!" Kitchel pressed off and flipped  
  
the phone closed.  
  
"Hey," She smiled at the cashier as he rang up her purchase.  
  
The employee behind the counter, a fairly tall, fair skinned young man,  
  
with hair so blonde it was almost white, and light green eyes, smiled back  
  
at her. He was wearing the plain white uniform all the people who  
  
worked here had on, and a pair of reading glasses were pushed up to  
  
rest on his forehead.  
  
"That Tetheus you're talking about?" He laughed lightly as she gave him a  
  
surprised look.  
  
"I couldn't help but overhear. He's my friend. I go to school with him. I'm  
  
the one who suggested he get a job here, actually," He said offhandedly,  
  
then added, "That will be $14.28."  
  
Kitchel pulled a twenty dollar bill out of her bag, "Yeah, I was talking  
  
about him," She handed him the money, "How did you know?"  
  
He grinned, "It wasn't hard to guess. Especially from the way you were  
  
going on," He sent her a strange, almost unreadable look, then seemed  
  
to give himself a mental shake.  
  
"Your change is $5.72," He dropped the money into her hand and gave  
  
her a warm smile, "Have a nice day!"  
  
She picked up her purchase, and quickly glanced at his name tag.  
  
"You too, Kai-Stern!" She waved at him and exited the store, a white  
  
plastic bag bearing the company's logo in hand.  
  
Once the girl had left, Kai-Stern let out a deep breath. Sinking down  
  
into the chair he had dragged away from the items on display and behind  
  
the counter where he stood, he rubbed his temples, eyes closed.  
  
"It's all just..." He murmured to himself, trailing off and searching for the  
  
correct phrase.  
  
"Fucked up."  
  
He sighed again.  
  
"Lord, I need a drink."  
  
***  
  
The plot bunny embryo Kat gave me is starting to grow... Who knows,  
  
maybe it will be all adult sized by the time this story is over.  
  
Review, please! ^^  
  
*rereads story* O_o I added in a possible three pairings... Anybody find  
  
them all? 


	5. Principals and Punishments

Oh for the love of...*sighs* I just found my first error. V.V Chapter one. I  
  
said seventeen days. I meant twelve. ^^; Sorry?  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Knights. V.V If I did... I would offer to give  
  
away bishies in return for reviews(How's that for a good deal?).  
  
Alfeegi's job and Rath and Cesia's meeting belongs solely to Kat. I just  
  
borrowed it and tweaked it slightly to fit my own purposes.  
  
Kat: Did you say ANY pairing? ^^  
  
Jaid Skywalker: Awesome, a review!*big grin* Homework is evil.*glares  
  
at offending homework*  
  
***  
  
Thats stood in line, impatiently rocking back and forth on the balls of  
  
his feet, his hands holding on the the straps on the bag on his back. He  
  
was third from the front with twenty more minutes left on his break  
  
before he had to head off to his Spanish class.  
  
Of course, twenty minutes wouldn't be that bad, but he had other things  
  
to work on.  
  
He was going to practice again after school with Rune and Rath,  
  
and both boys had threatened him with physical harm and lack of food if  
  
he didn't have at least part of a song written up by Saturday.  
  
He muttered an obscenity under his breath.  
  
Thats felt that the others should be the ones writing it, but they felt that  
  
since he had contributed the least to the band so far, he should be the  
  
one to write the song they would perform for the judges in nine days.  
  
When he asked why Rune couldn't be the one to write them since they all  
  
knew Rune had scored an A in English last term, Rath had pointed out  
  
that he had more free time than the other boy.  
  
Rolling his eyes, he moved forward with the line.  
  
More time, his ass.  
  
It wasn't his fault Rune was an such an overachiever.  
  
For that matter, it also wasn't his fault that Rath was completely  
  
untalented when it came to song writing.  
  
This latter fact had been proven when he had finally seen what his friend  
  
had written as a rough draft.  
  
Thats winced.  
  
Good lord, were those lyrics bad.  
  
Both boys had forced him to take Rath's page of crumpled notes to  
  
school for him to use for ideas or reference, and had said they were going  
  
to see what he had written by the time school was out for the day.  
  
Unfortunately, the day was half over and Thats had drawn a blank.  
  
He had no idea what to write a song on, and even less of an idea how he  
  
could get it finished in time for them to practice.  
  
Since his mind was wandering to the piece of paper covered with crossed  
  
off scribbles and squished into an overstuffed English binder, it wasn't  
  
until he was poked in the back several times that he realized he was at  
  
the front of the line.  
  
"Sorry," Thats mumbled, glancing over his shoulder at the two  
  
younger girls standing behind him.  
  
He turned back to face the heavyset middle-aged woman in a navy blue  
  
shirt and hair net standing behind the counter shooting him an impatient  
  
look.  
  
"I'll take a BLT, two scoops of rice, a bag of M&Ms, and a chocolate ice  
  
cream malt," He informed the cafeteria lady, digging in his jeans pocket  
  
for his id card. He pulled it out and gave it to her, nodding his thanks as  
  
she returned it and gave him his order.  
  
He carried his purchase outside to a table near the classrooms,  
  
where he placed the food down and dropped his bag on the ground. He  
  
knelt beside it and, after opening it, dug out a white folder. Thats  
  
snapped open it's rings and removed a slightly crumpled sheet of paper.  
  
Closing the rings and the folder and tossing it lazily on the ground, he sat  
  
down at the table, spreading the paper out in front of him and  
  
unwrapping his sandwich.  
  
He took a bite, enjoying the crisp taste of tomato and bacon, then turned  
  
his attention to the task at hand.  
  
"Right," He mumbled through his mouthful of food, "Lyrics."  
  
Thats swallowed and placed the sandwich down, shooting a nervous  
  
glance at his quickly melting dessert.  
  
He stared at the paper, chin cupped in one hand, the fingers of the other  
  
drumming on the wooden table.  
  
The sun moved behind a cloud and reappeared, shining down on  
  
the lightly tanned teenager, the angle of it's rays causing the shadow the  
  
boy cast to shrink and hide beneath it's master.  
  
Thats sighed.  
  
"Daaaaaamnit," He complained, noting in the back of his mind that he  
  
sounded like a whining six year old in a toy store who wasn't being  
  
allowed to get his favorite action figure, and slumped down until his face  
  
was eye level with the table.  
  
He sent off a glare in the direction of the offending piece of paper, and  
  
crossed his arms over the edge of the table.  
  
"Anyone out there got an idea for sale?" He muttered in an annoyed  
  
fashion, stretching out one arm and grabbing his melting chocolate malt.  
  
He straightened up, pulling off it's lid and dropping it on the table, then  
  
tipped some of it's dripping contents into his open mouth.  
  
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and placed the malt back  
  
down.  
  
"Well," He remarked in a much cheerier voice, "If I can't have a  
  
brainwave, at least I'll have a sugar high!"  
  
***  
  
A young girl, barely in high school, with long red hair and blue- green  
  
eyes dashed out of the cafeteria, attempting to balance a salad and a  
  
bottle of some sort of blue sports drink on top of the stack of books she  
  
was carrying in her arms.  
  
"Are you sure class starts at twelve thirty?" She asked the freshman  
  
sprinting alongside her.  
  
"I checked the schedule!" The second girl shouted back, clutching onto a  
  
sandwich in one hand and attempting to pull on an overstuffed light  
  
purple backpack with the other.  
  
"I told you we didn't have time to get food!" She snapped, her bright blue  
  
eyes flashing angrily.  
  
"Well, sorry!" The first one said, gasping as her text books jabbed her in  
  
the chest, crashing into the loose black halter top she wore.  
  
"You didn't have to come, you know, Shian!"  
  
They ran across the paved ground, quickly reaching the field which  
  
separated them from their next class.  
  
Shian sent her friend a look that promised her severe bodily harm in the  
  
near future and hissed a response.  
  
"You said we had a break!" She stumbled over a dip in the ground and  
  
swore loudly.  
  
"To hell with it all!" Shian slowed slightly and finally managed to pull her  
  
bag on properly.  
  
"Miyabi!" She began running after the other girl again, tugging down her  
  
short black mini skirt with one hand, her blue ponytail smacking her  
  
backpack as she sprinted across the grassy field.  
  
Miyabi stopped running suddenly as she heard her name being called,  
  
almost falling over from the sudden change in speed, and turned around.  
  
"Are you ok?" She asked.  
  
Shian nodded, catching up to her.  
  
"Come on, Mi'!" She grabbed her friend's hand and yanked her forward,  
  
towards the tall white buildings looming ahead.  
  
"Ouch!" Miyabi pried her hand free, "That hurt!" She complained.  
  
Shian glared at her, annoyed once again.  
  
"Well, you made us late!"  
  
"It wasn't my fault!" Miyabi protested, almost dropping her lunch as they  
  
sprinted up the stairs leading to the entrance to the building, "I thought  
  
we had a fifteen minute break!"  
  
The two girls reached the hallway and continued running, their shoes  
  
causing their footsteps to echo louder than normal as they hit the tiled  
  
floor. They passed through the empty hallway, somehow managing to  
  
avoid crashing into any of the small metal lockers lining it as they raced by  
  
at breakneck speed.  
  
"There it is, there it is. This way!" Shian yelled, pulling her friend  
  
towards a door on their left.  
  
Miyabi nodded, and both girls burst through the door into the classroom,  
  
where they immediately doubled over, gasping for breath.  
  
"So s-sorry," Miyabi wheezed, her hands on her knees. Next to her, her  
  
friend was straightening up, wiping sweat off her forehead and panting.  
  
"We got-- The times wrong--," She managed to get out, letting her  
  
backpack slide off and hit the floor.  
  
"Class, too," She heard an low, unfamiliar voice mutter in the deafening  
  
silence filling the room.  
  
Startled, she peeked up at her classmates through her red bangs and  
  
immediately froze. Beside her, Shian was staring at the students with  
  
wide blue eyes.  
  
"Ah," Miyabi felt her face grow hot.  
  
Directly in front of them were about thirty students, all of the upper  
  
grades, and a very confused looking teacher.  
  
"How may I help you girls?" The middle woman asked, looking at them  
  
from a slender face framed by long curling black hair falling down to just  
  
brush past her hips which were themselves covered by a luxurious  
  
lavender and gold skirt.  
  
Miyabi stood up, hoisting her backpack back on, unable to find her voice.  
  
"Oh, shoot," Shian said, laughing nervously, as she attempted to back  
  
out of the room unnoticed.  
  
"Man, we're sorry about that," She opened the door behind her.  
  
Both freshmen quickly ran out the door and into the hallway, attempting  
  
to ignore the more than slightly hysterical laughter following them.  
  
Miyabi and Shian both glared at each other.  
  
"This is _your_ fault!" They proclaimed in unison.  
  
***  
  
A small statured, teal haired man in a pair of long gray pressed  
  
pants and white tunic-looking shirt was seated behind a thick wooden  
  
desk, a mound of paperwork in front of him.  
  
He ran a hand over his face, drawing it past disturbingly orange eyes and  
  
small, delicate mouth, and let it clench into a fist, just in time to pound the  
  
desk as the force of gravity drew it downwards.  
  
There was someone to see him. Again.  
  
He mentally sighed and visibly scowled, reading over the important  
  
looking document in front of him and quickly glancing up to look through  
  
the small glass window installed on his office door.  
  
Through it's thick panes he caught a distorted glimpse of two young girls  
  
in his waiting room, probably sent to see him for being late to class, or  
  
coming on their own accord with a feeble excuse for a tardy slip.  
  
Feeling distinctly annoyed, he decided to see them now and get it over  
  
with before he fell even more behind into the ever growing list of things  
  
that needed to be done.  
  
He pressed a small red button on his desk, causing a buzzer to sound  
  
and both girls in the waiting room to jump.  
  
As he straightened the papers on his desk, clearing some of them off and  
  
simply shifting others to the side, his secretary, a young woman with fine  
  
light brown hair that barely graced her shoulders, ushered the two girls  
  
through the door where they stood, kicking nervously at the ground.  
  
Alfeegi glared at them.  
  
"Well?" He snapped.  
  
One of the two girls, the taller one with dyed blue hair, raised her arm  
  
and pointed at her friend.  
  
"It was her fault," She said matter-of-factly.  
  
Alfeegi watched as the other girl snapped up and whirled around,  
  
shouting at the first.  
  
"It wasn't my fault! You were the one who said we should go in that  
  
classroom!"  
  
"But you made us late," The first pointed out, crossing her arms.  
  
"Well, you made us late the last time!" The shorter teenager said, sticking  
  
her tongue out and placing her hands on her hips.  
  
Which, Alfeegi noted, were covered by a short white skirt that was  
  
defiantly out of dress code.  
  
He noticed another breaking of the rules in the form of her black halter  
  
top, a loose shirt made out of some sort of sheer material that appeared  
  
to be almost, but not quite, see through.  
  
His eyes narrowed. Of course, they might have been a full length ball  
  
gown compared to the skimpy articles of clothing her friend had on.  
  
Black faux-leather mini skirt, skintight white open-back shirt, bra straps  
  
plainly visible...  
  
He mentally marked off all the violated school dress code rules, creating a  
  
lengthy mental list.  
  
They were both wearing high shoes, the shorter girl had on a pair of  
  
ankle-length white boots, dirty at the toe from daily wear, and the other  
  
had longer boots of an identical color, reaching to her knee and with a  
  
much higher heel; maybe three inches in height compared to her friend's  
  
two inch heels.  
  
There was no rule against that type of footwear, but he reminded himself  
  
to create one; shoes like that had no place on school grounds.  
  
Alfeegi squinted in the bright artificial light of his office and took a closer  
  
look at their hair.  
  
The redhead might be a natural, but her friend had obviously dyed her  
  
bright blue locks.  
  
Why she thought it looked good he would never know.  
  
"Sir?" He was jerked out of his thoughts by a tentative voice.  
  
"What is it?" He snapped, wondering how he was to get any work  
  
done around here if people insisted on interrupting him all day.  
  
"Ah," The girl who was the most out of dress code said, apparently  
  
startled by his outburst.  
  
Her friend spoke up in a nervous voice.  
  
"Could we have a late slip, sir?"  
  
He glared at them, making sure they knew how much hassle it was going  
  
to be for him to grant their request, then pulled open a drawer in his  
  
desk, snatching out a small blue slip of paper.  
  
"Your excuse?" He asked in a voice that showed what he thought of  
  
people who needed tardy slips.  
  
"We lost track of time," The girl with the dyed hair said, recovered from  
  
her shock.  
  
He jotted that down on the tab of paper, then looked up at them.  
  
"Names?"  
  
"Miyabi and Shian," The redhead answered for both of them.  
  
"Well, Miyabi and Shian," Alfeegi said, writing their names down and  
  
adding in the current time and a signature, "Here's your late slip." He held  
  
it out for them.  
  
Miyabi took it from his hand and both freshmen turned to leave.  
  
"See me after school."  
  
They stopped in their tracks.  
  
"What?" Shian turned around, staring at him with wide eyes.  
  
"You heard me," He glared at both of them again, pulling a document from  
  
the top of a pile on his desk and reading it over, then picked up a black  
  
pen and underlined various important phrases on the paper.  
  
"You are in detention for an hour each," He said.  
  
"What?!" Shian repeated, not believing what she had heard, "Why?"  
  
Take a deep breath, count to ten.  
  
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6...  
  
Alfeegi sent them a withering look over the top of his paper.  
  
"Dress code violations," He stated simply, "Skirts too short, sleeves not  
  
long enough, open back shirts," He was steadily becoming more annoyed  
  
with every word spoken.  
  
"Undergarments in plain view, clothing too tight," A vein was throbbing on  
  
his forehead and he seemed close to loosing it.  
  
"Not to mention hair dyed unnatural colors," He said, casting a  
  
disapproving glance at her blue hair.  
  
"Your detention starts at three sharp, be on time. If you come late, you  
  
stay late. And," He glared at them for the fifth time that day, "Don't even  
  
think about sneaking out. Lord knows how many times the teachers who  
  
are supposed to be supervising have tried that, not to mention the  
  
students."  
  
He let out a sigh through tightly clenched teeth.  
  
"Hurry up! Your class started ten minutes ago!"  
  
He heard one pair of feet head towards the door, but the other girl  
  
stayed where she was.  
  
"Shian," He heard hissed by the student who was now opening his door,  
  
"Just drop it! We're late enough as it is!"  
  
His hand squeezing the pen in it's grip so tight that it creaked in protest  
  
under the extreme amount of pressure he was exerting upon it, he  
  
looked up, fighting for control; he'd already received complaints this  
  
month about how he treated his students.  
  
"What is it?" He tried to keep from snapping and failed.  
  
"I have a lot to do here and am very busy, so if you girls could leave and  
  
get to your class, I would really appreciate it!"  
  
Shian was giving him an impertinent look. It took no small leap of the  
  
imagination to spot the flames spouting up behind her.  
  
"Well?"  
  
She crossed her arms, bright aqua eyes flashing dangerously.  
  
Sending her elder the deadliest look she could muster, she spoke.  
  
"Your hair is blue."  
  
The throbbing vein enlarged.  
  
"My hair," He ground out, his face redding with a mixture of  
  
embarrassment brought about by being caught breaking his own rules  
  
and simple rage, "Is teal."  
  
The freshman stood her ground as her principal continued talking, his  
  
voice slowly growing in power and volume until, at the height of his rant,  
  
when her glare had long since faded away to be replaced by a look of  
  
shock, she was grabbed by her friend and willingly dragged out of the  
  
room, leaving the young man to slam the door after them.  
  
Alfeegi spun around on his heel and stalked over to his desk, sitting  
  
down behind it and muttering to himself. He viciously snatched his work  
  
up and straightened the stack, then let out a long sigh as he felt the  
  
beginnings of a headache form behind his temples.  
  
"That will be two more angry letters from two more angry parents," He  
  
mused in an annoyed fashion, then fell silent.  
  
He grabbed the top ten papers on the pile and flipped through them until  
  
he found the one he wanted, a lengthy document explaining the various  
  
types of dress that were not allowed on campus.  
  
He grabbed his pen and started writing, muttering to himself as he did so.  
  
"Boots...Boots with heels three inches...No, two inches or higher..." He  
  
wrote down the rule, then slipped the finished article into his out box.  
  
"One thing finished, 2,864 to go," Alfeegi sighed, one hand coming up to  
  
massage his temples.  
  
***  
  
He was on the verge of finishing yet another important paper, when  
  
a shadow outside his door caused him to look up.  
  
"God," He muttered under his breath, "Another student?"  
  
He pressed the button on his desk, signaling the buzzer to sound and  
  
Cernozura to allow the student to enter his office.  
  
Well, maybe if he was lucky, this one wouldn't comment on his hair.  
  
His door opened and Alfeegi visibly twitched with annoyance.  
  
"Oh," He said, "It's _you_ again."  
  
The boy in front of him chuckled nervously, one hand reaching up to run  
  
through his cinnamon brown hair, then trail it's way down his face, lightly  
  
tanned and marred with an assortment of scars.  
  
"Can I have--" He was cut off by the man in front of the desk.  
  
"A late slip," Alfeegi dug one out and continued speaking, waving the  
  
piece of paper threateningly.  
  
"It's always a late slip, Thats! If not, then it's a reprimand on falling  
  
asleep in class. So what did you do this time? Go off campus and forget to  
  
come back? Meet your friend and talk too long?" Seeing the boy shake his  
  
head, he clenched his fist tighter around the paper.  
  
"Let me guess... You bought lunch, then fell asleep."  
  
Is it good to be able to feel your blood pressure rising?  
  
Thats nodded, grinning slightly from embarrassment.  
  
"Yeah... I did that last week too, didn't I?"  
  
"And the week before, and the week before that," Alfeegi said, glaring.  
  
"Honestly, Thats! If you weren't you, I don't know how you could do that  
  
so often!" The young principal wrote down the excuse and the student's  
  
name on the four by two inch slip of paper.  
  
He glanced at the clock he had on his desk, marking down the time as  
  
well, and signing it at the bottom.  
  
"Do I have detention?" Thats asked.  
  
Alfeegi glared at him, looking intimidating, rather hard to do with aqua  
  
colored hair.  
  
"Yes, you have detention. You also have cafeteria cleanup duty for the  
  
next cycle!"  
  
Thats groaned and Alfeegi continued, "You will be coming in every day  
  
after school and staying for two hours, until next E-day-that's next week  
  
Thursday-sweeping and wiping down the cafeteria."  
  
"Wait," The boy suddenly looked concerned, "I can't come in after school.  
  
Today, sure, but not all of next week. I've got practice," He explained to a  
  
skeptical looking principal, "With my friends. We've started a band," He  
  
added in hopefully, praying that the man would let him off the hook once  
  
he heard that he was doing something constructive in his free time.  
  
"Too bad," Thats' hopes fell.  
  
"You should have thought of that before you got in trouble!" Alfeegi  
  
growled, sending the clock an anxious glance.  
  
If he got the teenager out of here now, then he would have enough time  
  
to possibly get finished with his work on schedule.  
  
"Hurry up and go to class," He shoved the late slip at the downcast boy,  
  
"I have work to be doing!"  
  
Thats sighed and trudged out of the room, turned around once he  
  
reached the door, his mouth open to ask a question.  
  
Whatever it was he was going to say died on his lips as he saw the look  
  
he was being given.  
  
He rolled his eyes once and exited the room.  
  
"Finally," Alfeegi muttered to himself.  
  
Now he could get some work done around this place.  
  
***  
  
Just about to sign the paper in front of him, his head snapped up at  
  
the sound of Thats' voice.  
  
"Why hasn't he left yet?!"  
  
He tried to keep from screaming in frustration and, with a bit of work,  
  
barely managed to do so.  
  
Looking out the small, thick window on his door, he saw the blurry figures  
  
of the same boy who was just in his room and another. It was different  
  
boy, from what he could see, with black hair and an odd lock of white that  
  
kept falling into his face.  
  
They seemed to be talking, the newcomer agitated about something, and  
  
Thats trying to calm him down.  
  
Curiosity piqued, albeit against his will, Alfeegi was about to summon  
  
them inside, when he noticed a third figure.  
  
A female he hadn't seen in his office before, with long black hair and deep  
  
red bangs.  
  
She was wearing a pair of long black pants and a white poet shirt.  
  
Wondering why everyone was wearing black and white today(even the  
  
boy with her was dressed in mostly black!), he watched as the teenaged  
  
girl wrapped her fingers around the dark haired boy's arm and dragged  
  
him over to his door, at which she gave a curt knock.  
  
He jumped, having forgotten for a second that it was his office they were  
  
going to.  
  
"Come in," He said, attempting to sound annoyed, trying to see over both  
  
figures outside his door to find out whether Thats had indeed left the  
  
room, or was still standing there.  
  
There was a pause as the students outside spoke.  
  
"Well?" His curiosity was draining away by now and he really was getting  
  
annoyed.  
  
What as taking them so long?  
  
He heard muffled bickering, then a pause, a slap, and a loud "OW!"  
  
Then his door was torn open and a very ticked off teenage girl entered,  
  
dragging after her a boy of about the same age, who was rubbing his left  
  
cheek where a red mark was starting to form.  
  
One eyebrow raised.  
  
"Yes?" He asked.  
  
***  
  
Rath rubbed his face where the strange girl had hit him, a voice in  
  
the back of his mind pointing out that it was most likely going to leave a  
  
large red mark in the shape of her hand.  
  
"Sir?" The girl asked, never letting go of her death grip on his wrist, "I  
  
would like to speak with you."  
  
Rath attempted to pry her hand off him and failed, then turned to face  
  
her, rolling his eyes and sending off a glare.  
  
"I told you," He said crossly, "I'm sorry, already! What else do you want  
  
me to do?"  
  
Ignoring him, she continued speaking as though he wasn't there. Or as if  
  
he was some unintelligent creature with not much more than a brain stem  
  
filling it's skull.  
  
"I want him suspended!"  
  
Alfeegi raised his other eyebrow.  
  
"On what charge?" He looked over the teenaged boy, still trying  
  
unsuccessfully to loosen her grip on his arm.  
  
"He doesn't seem to be doing anything wrong."  
  
"He," She faltered as if embarrassed to continue, her face was now at a  
  
stark contrast to the way it had been moments before.  
  
There was a long silence in which Alfeegi began drumming his fingers on  
  
his desk.  
  
"I was going to class," She said abruptly, apparently deciding it would be  
  
easier to explain the whole story instead of simply saying what rule had  
  
been broken.  
  
"My science class is on the other end of this building and I had a minute  
  
to get there, so I was running..."  
  
She continued speaking, brushing an invisible speck of dust off of her jet  
  
black skirt with her free hand.  
  
*Flashback*  
  
Cesia dashed down the near deserted hallways, her science text  
  
book under one arm and a freshly printed out lab report in her right hand.  
  
Her left one was preoccupied with holding on tight to a pencil case, made  
  
of a soft material with a pattern of Hawaiian flowers in a light yellow.  
  
She had met Kitchel before school, and the other girl did indeed  
  
have the tubing, so they would defiantly be able to finish up their  
  
experiment today.  
  
Well, so long as Tintlett was there, anyway.  
  
She was coming from the library, a large building filled with rows of thick  
  
books and various resources necessary for papers and essays assigned  
  
to the students of the high school.  
  
There were several individual desks on the far right hand side where  
  
multiple students were still seated; either studying or pretending to, and  
  
a couple of the desks had computers station on them. It was at one of  
  
these desks where Cesia had spent her break, pouring over the helpful  
  
notes Tintlett had left her and typing furiously on a red apple computer,  
  
trying desperately to get her report finished in time for class.  
  
Well, it was finished, all right, but just barely.  
  
She had about a minute to make it to her class before being marked as  
  
late by her bitch of a science teacher.  
  
As she virtually flew down the hall, rounded a corner, passing by  
  
the bathrooms and janitors closet, then swung around another bend,  
  
something heavy slammed into her, knocking her over and sending her  
  
sprawling on the ground, eyes tightly closed.  
  
Wincing from the pain spreading upwards through her back and body,  
  
she opened her eyes to discover a teenaged boy straddling her around  
  
the middle.  
  
She recognized him.  
  
Some part of her mind reminded her that his name was Rath Illuser and  
  
that he had been in her English class the year they started high school.  
  
Rath was wearing a pair of long and baggy, but not overly so, faded black  
  
pants and light gray t-shirt, bearing the phrase, "Boys don't cry" in blood-  
  
red velvet lettering. She couldn't see his shoes, but from what she could  
  
feel of them when she moved her leg slightly, they seemed to not be  
  
sneakers. They were too hard for that, unless he had somehow managed  
  
to stiffen them, or had stuffed the toes with metal.  
  
His hair was pitch black, except for a small lock of white-blonde hair near  
  
the front of his head that kept falling into his dark eyes.  
  
He looked down on her, startled and obviously sorry about what he had  
  
done, and appeared about to speak.  
  
Brushing herself off, she started to stand when she suddenly stiffened.  
  
Something hard was pressing itself up against her abdomen.  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
Alfeegi looked incredulously at the boy in his office.  
  
"What?" He asked, still somewhat startled by the unusual outcome of the  
  
girl's story.  
  
Cesia nodded empathetically.  
  
"Sexual harassment!" She stated, sending the boy a dirty look.  
  
Rath reddened considerably and glared at the other student, finally  
  
managing to shake her off his arm.  
  
"That," He growled, "Is not what happened!"  
  
He turned to the principal, "Look. She's twisting the facts! I didn't 'jump  
  
out' at her, and I didn't mean to land that way! Listen to me!"  
  
Alfeegi sighed and leaned back as the other student began his  
  
longwinded version of events, wondering if they would notice if he got  
  
started on some of his other work while they were still present.  
  
*Flashback*  
  
"Stupid teacher needs to let us out friggin' earlier!" Rath complained  
  
as he sprinted from the lecture room where he had spent a full hour and  
  
a half of his life being bored to tears listening to his History teacher drone  
  
on about some old dead guy in some old lifeless city in some old and  
  
long-renamed country.  
  
He growled under his breath.  
  
He had to hurry or he'd be late to his next class.  
  
Combat boots thudding noisily on the ground, he hurried to make it on  
  
time to his next class; although he wasn't completely sure what it was.  
  
Math, possibly.  
  
English, probably.  
  
Phys. Ed., hopefully.  
  
He managed to stop his running as he passed by a clock hanging on the  
  
wall above the mostly-locked metal lockers and a solitary water fountain,  
  
filled with gum.  
  
11:58.  
  
"Shit," Rath muttered under his breath as he dropped his bag onto the  
  
floor and dug out a crumpled schedule.  
  
He read it over quickly, then crammed it back into his bag, closing it and  
  
picking it up again before dashing off again.  
  
English.  
  
His English class was taught by a young man, not much more than thirty  
  
years old, and with fair blonde hair that matched perfectly with his light  
  
skin and blue-green eyes. He was considered to be one of the easiest  
  
teachers you could get, and was incredibly nice.  
  
Rath despised him.  
  
As he dashed along the empty corridors, his mind preoccupied with  
  
thoughts of his dreaded class and practice after school with Rune and  
  
Thats, he almost didn't notice the girl until he was crashing into her.  
  
Not that she would have been easy to spot, he had turned a corner, and  
  
there she was, running in the opposite direction as him, as if the dogs of  
  
hell or some hated teacher was on her trail.  
  
As it was, he wasn't able to stop in him, and bowled her over, flying  
  
through the air himself, and coming to land straddling her around her  
  
waist. She looked vaguely familiar, but it wasn't until she opened her  
  
eyes-she had shut them tightly right before hitting the ground- that he  
  
realized where he knew her from. He had been in an English class with  
  
her before, a couple of years ago.  
  
She was wearing a soft white shirt with lacing part way down the  
  
front and bell shaped sleeves. Her hair, pure black except for her bangs  
  
which had been dyed crimson, was wavy and currently spread out behind  
  
her, creating a billowing mat of silk on which she had landed. She had on  
  
a pair of pants as black as her hair; tight in all the right places, and  
  
supple enough to allow her free movement of her legs.  
  
He noticed all this in a moment's time, for that was all that had  
  
passed since he crashed into her and sent them both to the floor. Now  
  
the girl beneath him was attempting to get up, apparently forgetting for a  
  
moment that there was a person seated on top of her. She arched her  
  
back, pushing herself upwards with her arms, and then slid back down,  
  
realizing that what she was doing was futile.  
  
Rath stiffened.  
  
Oh, God.  
  
Did that feel weird.  
  
From her angle it was no more than a simple and innocent attempt to get  
  
up, but from his...  
  
He was sitting rather rigidly now.  
  
It felt as though the Junior had just been grinding on him.  
  
As he was about to open his mouth to apologize and get off her before  
  
anything else unusual could happen, Cesia suddenly jerked her body  
  
away from him and sent him the worst glare imaginable.  
  
Before he knew what was happening, she had his wrist in a death grip  
  
and was pulling them both towards the principal's office at an  
  
unbelievable speed.  
  
*End Flashback*  
  
Alfeegi looked back and forth between the two juniors in his office,  
  
both now standing with their arms crossed, glaring daggers at each other  
  
and him.  
  
He let out a long sigh and rubbed his temples.  
  
"I. Don't. Have. Time for this!!" He looked slowly at Cesia, then at Rath.  
  
"You are the two biggest wastes of my time that have been in here all  
  
day!" His short patience had finally snapped.  
  
"I don't have the damn time to figure this out, and as far as I'm  
  
concerned, you can both just go to detention this afternoon for two hours  
  
each!"  
  
Rath gaped and Cesia looked extremely surprised.  
  
Alfeegi was off in his own little world, so he noticed none of this, but kept  
  
talking to the students.  
  
"That's right! Half an hour for being late to class, half an hour for running  
  
in the hallways, half an hour for PDAs," He sent a deadly look to Rath who  
  
was opening and closing his mouth indigently.  
  
"And half an hour because I feel like it! I never want to see you two in  
  
here again!"  
  
By the time Cesia opened her mouth to protest the injustice of it all, the  
  
two students found themselves outside their principal's office with his  
  
secretary staring at them curiously.  
  
Cesia ignored her and stalked out of the room into the hallway, Rath  
  
following closely behind.  
  
As soon as they reached the corridor, Cesia spun around.  
  
"Will you quit that?!"  
  
"Why?" Rath asked, crossing his arms, "You're the freak who got us in  
  
trouble."  
  
"Pervert," She hissed through her clenched teeth.  
  
Rath stuck his tongue out at her, "At least I didn't get us two hours  
  
detention! I'm supposed to practice after school! How the hell am I gonna  
  
do that now? I won't be able to get ready in time, and it's your  
  
goddamned fault!" He was shouting at her by this point, crimson in the  
  
face from rage.  
  
"You..." She seemed at a loss for the correct word, "Baby!"  
  
He rolled his eyes sarcastically and she continued.  
  
"You're the biggest crybaby I've ever seen! For God's sake, could you  
  
stop with the whining for a minute!? You're an immature, irresponsible,  
  
selfish, idiotic child!" She snapped, empathizing the last word.  
  
Rath responded to the challenge.  
  
"At least I'm not a total bitch like you!"  
  
She bristled, "I hope I never see your stupid face again!"  
  
"Good!" He called after her as she stomped off to her next class, already  
  
fifteen minutes late, "Same goes for me!"  
  
She swirled around.  
  
If looks could kill, Rath would be a bleeding mass on the floor.  
  
"I hate you, Rath Illuser!" Cesia screamed at him.  
  
"I hate you too!" He yelled back at her, scaring a random freshman who  
  
was walking down the hall to his locker.  
  
Rath clenched his hands into fists and stood motionless in front of the  
  
office door, watching as she rounded a nearby corner and fell out of sight.  
  
He sent a vicious look at the underclassman who was kneeling on the  
  
dirty ground, quickly gathering his supplies from his small locker on the  
  
bottom row.  
  
"Go to hell," He muttered in the direction Cesia had vanished, stuffing his  
  
shaking hands into his pockets and walking down the hallway in the  
  
opposite direction.  
  
As the younger student scurried off, Rath shot yet another bloodthirsty  
  
look over his shoulder, but the girl was already far out of his sight.  
  
He crammed his hands deeper still into his pockets and marched off.  
  
He stayed in his poor mood for the rest of the day, the only thought on  
  
his mind one of an angry dark haired girl, surrounded by violent gusts of  
  
swirling wind.  
  
***  
  
*has just finished reading Inkheart and is now looking at her Dragon  
  
Knights books with longing*  
  
V_V  
  
Please Review?  
  
Like just now. As in, as I was about to post this, he keeled over. o.O; 


	6. Green Eyes and Blue

(A/N: Sorry, my last sentace at the bottom of the page got cut off. I ment  
  
to say that my goldfish of six years just died. His name was Julius Caesar,  
  
and he died exactly one month and a day after the ides of March. ^_^;;;  
  
On a different note, I just discovered Dragon Knights music! =D)  
  
Kat: Wow, long review again. O.o Thank you bunches!  
  
Ginsing1: ^o^ Thanks! ^o^ *ego begins to swell* I plan to finish, yes. It  
  
may take me a bit, but I hope to finish this story.  
  
Charna: Wow, thanks for all the ego stroking! ^^ And I only spell it that  
  
way because there was some fic I read almost a year ago that pointed  
  
out the actual spelling of their names was different than the translations.  
  
No clue why I spell only Thats' name the alternative way instead of the  
  
normal one. You'd think I'd do everyone else too, but no... The mind of a  
  
Thatchel fangirl is an interesting thing.  
  
Disclaimer: When one is no longer on the front page one knows it's time  
  
to stop writing and start posting. I don't own Dragon Knights.  
  
Warning: I think I need to start putting this. Swearing, minor violence,  
  
teenagers.  
  
***  
  
"Watch it!" A girl's voice snapped, breaking the tense and  
  
uncomfortable silence that had not been disrupted in several very long  
  
and painful minutes.  
  
"You watch it!" Thats jerked his head up from looking down at the long  
  
table in the school cafeteria. He was holding a thin white washcloth in  
  
one hand and a metal tray, about as long as a keyboard and half again  
  
as wide in the other.  
  
The teenaged boy glared at his companion, sending an stressed look  
  
deep into her large eyes. They were as green as the grass after a long  
  
rain, and speckled with grains of a red-brown. A final stroke of the artist's  
  
brush had added in a dart of black, jutting off to the side of her irises in a  
  
thin, downwards curving arch. They were narrowed back at him as she  
  
looked at him with an expression of extreme annoyance.  
  
"Stop hitting the table with the damn broom!" He growled as the table  
  
was once again hit by the object in mention.  
  
The junior welding a broom and a dustpan brushed a damp strand of hair  
  
out of her face, sending him a highly annoyed look.  
  
"Stop brushing crap onto the floor!"  
  
"It's not my fault," Thats complained, slamming the tray down onto the  
  
table, "Whoever sits here made a huge mess!"  
  
He gestured with his rag at the table top, currently covered in bits of  
  
melted ice cream, bread crumbs, paper napkins, and crusted rice.  
  
"It's disgusting!" He grumbled, resuming work.  
  
"Just stop brushing it onto the floor. There's enough junk down here  
  
already, without you adding to it," She swept the broom under the table,  
  
retreiving a small pile of dirt and food particles.  
  
They both returned to working, the only sounds in the large room their  
  
barely audiable grumbling.  
  
"Do you know when we can go, Kitchel?" Thats asked after a short while.  
  
"Nope," She dropped to the floor in a squat, peering around under the  
  
tables in the cafeteria, looking half-heartedly for more places to clean.  
  
"I forgot. What time is it?" She asked, standing up and pulling the  
  
bottoms of her tan shorts back down.  
  
"About," Thats squinted across the large room, attempting to read the  
  
time on the clock on the wall, "4:20."  
  
"Maybe half an hour more, then," Kitchel said, leaning on the broom. The  
  
pastel green paint covering it's handle was starting to peel off, and it was  
  
missing several chunks of straw from it's brush at the bottom.  
  
"Man, I wanna leave this dump!" She complained, heaving a long,  
  
melodramtic sigh.  
  
"I've still got detention after this," Thats made a face.  
  
"So?" She said, starting to reluctantly sweep again, "I do too, ya know."  
  
He ignored her statment, returning his attention to the long, dirty table  
  
streached out before him.  
  
Neither said anything more, until...  
  
"Watch it!" She snapped, straightening up and slamming the handle  
  
of her broom against the table he was cleaning.  
  
The table shook under her blow, and he glared.  
  
"You watch it!"  
  
...They began arguing again.  
  
***  
  
Rath shot a curious glance around the classroom. He'd never been  
  
in here before, had never actually had detention before, and had never  
  
been in this room. It was a Math classroom, judging by the textbooks  
  
stacked on desks in the back of the class and the homework written on  
  
the blackboard at the front of the room. He had a sneaking suspicioun  
  
that this was where Calculus was taught. That would explain why he had  
  
never been in here. Math wasn't exactly his strong point.  
  
When he had entered the room for the start of his two hour  
  
detention the classroom had been rather full. He had chosen a seat near  
  
the back left corner, as far away from *her* as possible. Cesia had  
  
already been there for a few minutes and was sitting in the middle of the  
  
second row, her English book open and propped up on the desk, her face  
  
burried behind it.  
  
There had been two younger girls, possibly in their first year of high  
  
school sitting in the front row off to the side, their desks pushed together  
  
and giggling noisily. They had left approximatly an hour and a half ago.  
  
In addition to the three females, two younger and one older, a short boy  
  
had been in the room also. He had entered around an hour ago and left  
  
after just twenty minutes. Rath remembered that he had chosen a desk  
  
in the back like he had, and had at first attempted to do some sort of  
  
homework. He seemed to be having difficulties with it, however, and the  
  
unknown boy had quickly gotten annoyed with his constant need to  
  
change his answers, sending eraser dust scattering all over the small  
  
desk he was seated behind. After having to brush it off multiple times,  
  
once even removing all of the books and papers on his desk to wipe it off  
  
with the sleeve of his long black shirt, he gave up and put it away in his  
  
backpack. He left soon afterwards.  
  
As if having all these different people around wasn't bad enough, they  
  
were being watched by his English teacher.  
  
Lykouleon.  
  
Mind, Lykouleon wasn't exactly paying attention to them, but every once  
  
in a while he would look at them with that understanding smile of his.  
  
Rath tried his hardest to not make eye contact, but it was difficult.  
  
Their eyes would meet on occasion.  
  
Rath turned his face back to his desk as if for a precaution.  
  
The blonde man had blue-green eyes, the color of the ocean at rest.  
  
Or as much at rest as it ever was, Rath ammended, seeing as how the  
  
vast body of water never really calmed down. There was always a storm  
  
somewhere, not to mention the strong currents that raged through it at  
  
all times. This was, actually, now that he thought about it, a more  
  
accurate discription of the older man's eyes than a simple calm body of  
  
water. They held visions of secerts in azul, glimpses of the dark depths  
  
that came with maturity even though the man didn't look as though he  
  
could be over thirty.  
  
'That wasn't smart, was it, Rath?' They seemed to scream.  
  
'It's ok, though. I know you shouldn't be in trouble for it.'  
  
Even worse, if one looked into them for too long they made you want to  
  
spill your soul to their bearer.  
  
They were turquoise eyes which invaided one's mind.  
  
They relaxed your guard, slowly wore down your defenses, made you  
  
certian that Lykouleon was a good person, one you could trust.  
  
The dark haired boy made a low growling noise in his throat.  
  
Well, he wasn't going to fall for that trap, no sir.  
  
He'd fallen for it before and didn't plan to be caught the same way twice.  
  
Just because one was able to do that, just because one was--  
  
His angry thoughts were cut off by the sudden slamming of a door and  
  
the enterance of two quarrling figures.  
  
Thats walked into the room, slightly ahead of the fuming girl behind  
  
him. He caught sight of his friend sitting in the back of the class, then  
  
heard Kitchel make a rather unflattering comment about his geneology.  
  
"You should talk," He scowled, walking over to the teacher hidden behind  
  
a newspaper sitting at the desk in the front of the classroom.  
  
"Common," He snorted, wincing as she gave the back of his leg a  
  
powerful kick.  
  
"Ow! What're you wearing, combat boots?" Thats complained, muttering  
  
an indistingusable comment when she gestured at the short heeled shoe  
  
covering her foot, eyes rolling.  
  
He scrawled his name down on a piece of line paper attached to a  
  
clipboard, then paused, thinking.  
  
Kitchel kept talking as he wrote, continuing their argument from when  
  
they left the cafteria a few minutes earlier.  
  
"--You have got to be the stupidest boy in our grade! School, even! All  
  
you think about is your--"  
  
He turning around, cutting her off.  
  
"What time is it?"  
  
She shrugged.  
  
"I don't know, sorry. Check the clock."  
  
He nodded and did so, then copied down the time onto the thin blue line  
  
next to where he had written his name.  
  
"You want me to sign you in too?"  
  
"Please."  
  
As he wrote her name down on the line below his, she launched into her  
  
rant once again.  
  
"--Stomach. It's disgusting the amount of food you eat!"  
  
"Hey," He protested, finishing marking them both down as present with a  
  
last flourish of the pencil, "I'm a growing boy!"  
  
Kitchel rolled her eyes.  
  
"Whatever," She walked over to plop down in a desk next to Cesia and  
  
dropped her bag onto the floor.  
  
"See you at the Caf. tomorrow."  
  
"Yeah," He brushed past her, adding in over his shoulder, "Unfortunatly."  
  
She stuck her tounge out at his retreating figure and turned back to face  
  
the front of the classroom.  
  
"Hey, Cesia," She said, pulling a light blue Spanish workbook out of her  
  
backpack and flipping to a page towards the beginning.  
  
"What're you in for? You never get detention."  
  
Her friend slowly lowered her assigned reading material, dark eyes  
  
narrowed menicingly.  
  
"I don't want to talk about it," She practically growled, raising the book  
  
once again and burrying her face in it's pages.  
  
"Ok, ok," Kitchel muttered, twirling a yellow wooden pencil between her  
  
first two fingers out of habit, "Tou~chy."  
  
She stopped playing with the pencil and skimmed her eyes over the set of  
  
instructions on the page of her book.  
  
"It can't be that bad, Ces'," She said, pushing tentativly against what her  
  
mind had marked down as her friend's current level of emotional distress.  
  
"I mean, I had to work in the cafeteria for the longest time. At least you  
  
got to sit in the nice air conditioned room. 'Sides," She continued, relaxing  
  
and not paying as close attention since she now believed to have a good  
  
estimate of exactly how much more she'd have to do to drive her friend  
  
over the edge.  
  
"Whatever you did can't be as stupid as what I--"  
  
She was startled as Cesia slammed her book down on the desk, danger  
  
playing over every inch of her black-framed face. Eyes previously a deep  
  
honey brown now shone with a deadly red light. A streak of fading  
  
mahogany rushed across their surface, disappearing into the crimson  
  
glow pulsating from their core. The embers of hell burned within them,  
  
flickering slowly and growing with power, waiting to burst out into a  
  
roaring rage of fire, devouring all who came near and leaving their ashes  
  
for the dry, dead wind which would follow.  
  
Kitchel gave a nervous grin.  
  
"...Or not."  
  
Thats strolled to the back of the classroom, his light brown pants  
  
brushing together as he walked. He was wearing a plain red shirt, the  
  
back advertising some local store in which he had bought it, and a small  
  
logo on the front where the left breast pocket would be reading the same  
  
thing, only in miniature. He had on pants in a dirty brown color, their soft  
  
material extending halfway down his legs, stopping a little past his knees.  
  
The gap of space between them and his pair of beat up gray sneakers  
  
showed a long jagged scar in the rough shape of a cross on the front of  
  
his left leg, neatly covering his shin. The skin around it was tanned to a  
  
warm cinnimon. He had received the scar in a minor skateboarding  
  
accident a few years ago, back in seventh grade. He considered it 'minor'  
  
since it had not required any immediate medical attention, only the  
  
attention of his friend's immergancy first aid kit and a once-white-now-  
  
stained-red-towel to staunch the flow of blood. It had healed quickly  
  
enough, however, leaving behind only a faint reminder of it's once  
  
painfully obvious presense.  
  
Thats finished crossing the space between the front of the class  
  
and the back, and quickly chose an empty desk near his friend.  
  
"Yo, Rath," He sat down next to said boy, letting his dirty red bag fall to  
  
the ground.  
  
"Watcha doing?"  
  
Rath looked up at him, "Math homework," He gestured to the worksheet  
  
in front of him.  
  
"Bleh," The newcomer made a face, "Sucks for you. I did mine already.  
  
Thought it was due today," He shrugged, unzipping his backpack and  
  
pulling out a peanut butter sandwich.  
  
"Want some? I bought it at the snack bar."  
  
Rath nodded gratefully as his friend gave him half of the sweet sandwich,  
  
his stomach reminding him that it was already five and that he hadn't  
  
eaten since before noon that day during his lunch break.  
  
"Are you leaving soon?" Thats asked through a sticky mouthful, digging  
  
around in his bag with one hand and retrieving a white science folder. He  
  
opened it's rings and removed several sheets of scribbled on folder paper  
  
as Rath answered.  
  
"In a few minutes."  
  
"Man," Thats shifted through the papers, "I've gotta be here for another  
  
hour. Tell Rune for me, will ya?"  
  
As the other boy nodded, Thats pulled his CD played out of his backpack  
  
and slid the headphones on, pressing play.  
  
The steady beat of music reminded Rath.  
  
"Did you get anything written?" He asked.  
  
Thats shook his head, "Sorry. I'll get something by the weekend, I  
  
swear!" He placed his right hand over his heart, lifting the left into the air.  
  
"I just ran out of time. I'm working on it, though. I'll get something.  
  
Doncha worry about it," He flashed a lighthearted grin to his friend, white  
  
teeth shining in his tanned face, then leaned back in his chair, closing his  
  
eyes and tapping his foot in time with the music pounding through the  
  
headphones he was wearing.  
  
Rath sighed and went back to his homework, mentally counting down the  
  
minutes until he was out of this hellhole.  
  
***  
  
Lykouleon grinned to himself behind his paper. The students were  
  
so amusing. Especially in some combinations. Briefly wondering why Thats  
  
and Kitchel had never before had detention together under his watch, he  
  
finished off an article about some new brand of fishing line and put the  
  
newspaper down and folded it up. He placed it under his desk and  
  
glanced around the classroom. Four students occupied it; three had  
  
already left and two more had entered. Reaching for the clipboard on his  
  
desk, he quickly scanned the names of the three who were already gone.  
  
Hoping to high heaven that they hadn't left early(Alfeegi would find out.  
  
He always found out. And once he did there would be hell to pay.), he  
  
tried to remember if they were in any one of his classes. He was teaching  
  
both a basic English class for the Freshmen and another low level English  
  
class for some of the upperclassmen, so he got to know many of the  
  
students at the school.  
  
"Garfankcy," He murmered to himself.  
  
Ah, yes. He remembered the boy. Garfankcy had been in his Freshman  
  
class the year before; he was a Sophomore now.  
  
Lykouleon chuckled at the memories.  
  
He had always tried to be the tough guy, but let his mask slip at times,  
  
showing his weakness show through his farque. The most blaringly  
  
obvious of them was a constent need for cleanliness, but Lykouleon had  
  
a distinct feeling that was just one of many the boy had.  
  
Letting his eyes wander over to the other two names, he smiled as he  
  
instantly recognized them. Shian and Miyabi and, normally but not on this  
  
occasion, Hanakusuku. Miyabi and her sister, Hanakusuku, had met Shian  
  
several years ago and the three had, it seemed, instantly formed a bond  
  
of loyalty that would never be broken, no matter how much they argued  
  
or fought. He currently had all three of them in his Freshman class, but  
  
not all at the same time. Shian and Miyabi had very similar scheduals, but  
  
Hanakusuku had one completely different for some arbitrary reason. The  
  
only class in which they were all together in was orchestra, and in that  
  
they seemed determined to be together as much as possible: They all  
  
played the same instrument, the viola.  
  
Lykouleon ran a hand down the side of his face, toying with a small  
  
lock of light blonde hair for a moment, twisting it between his fingers.  
  
He was wearing a pair of plain white pants with a light blue collared shirt  
  
tucked into them; normal everyday wear. There was a faint swirling  
  
design on his shirt, it's shimmery color neatly matching the small gold stud  
  
in the bottom of his left ear.  
  
He placed the clipboard and paper down, and leaned forward in his  
  
chair, resting his chin on his folded hands, his arms propped up on the  
  
desk he was seated behind.  
  
As the students in the room went about their various activities; reading,  
  
doing homework, sleeping, Lykouleon straightened up and pulled a stack  
  
of essays from their hiding place under the desk he sat at. He was about  
  
to read over the one on top when a flicker of movement from the far right  
  
caught his eye. Curious, he looked over.  
  
There was a window attached to the door students used to enter the  
  
classroom, about 12 by 18 inches, with thick diamond shaped panes of  
  
glass that created a slightly distorted vision of the outside world.  
  
He watched as a small scene unfolded outside of it, and then, chuckling,  
  
turned back to grading homework assignments.  
  
***  
  
Outside in the hallway a pretty teenaged girl sat on the floor, long  
  
blonde hair falling in a wavy curtain about her pixie-like face. She had her  
  
legs curled under her body, denim skirt creating navy waves around slim  
  
calves. Two white sandles graced her feet and were matched up with a  
  
cloud-like spagetti strap shirt. Dewdrop earrings of cream and blue were  
  
the only jewlry she wore aside from her sapphire eyes and golden locks.  
  
She had a notebook open in her lap, a drawing pencil in her right hand,  
  
and was currently scetching a rough human figure.  
  
"Excuse me."  
  
She looked up from her work, self-conciously covering it with her hand,  
  
being careful to not mar the paper with a dark stain of lead.  
  
"Yes, Rune?"  
  
The boy standing above her was one that she knew quite well; he was in  
  
a few of her classes, and they had been friends when they were younger  
  
and had gone to the same elementary school. He had always had light  
  
hair on the longer side, but now it reached all the way down his back and  
  
was secured by a hair tie into a loose ponytail that started at the nape of  
  
his neck and extended downwards several feet.  
  
He was slim, but not skinny: There were muscles on his lean arms and  
  
more on the rest of his body, currently covered with a loose white t-shirt  
  
and a pair of denim jeans.  
  
His eyes held the clear blue of an icy mountain spring, open and  
  
welcoming, they seemed to draw one in.  
  
All emotions stood out strongly against those crystal clear pools, all it  
  
took was one glance to identify them all.  
  
Try as he might, nothing was hidden in the sky blue relm of his eyes.  
  
It was all easily spotted, as she knew from experiance.  
  
With a jerk, she tore her gaze away from his eyes, choosing instead a  
  
safer spot to look at; the blank space a few inches from his face.  
  
"Do you know if Rath and Thats have detention in here?" He asked, not  
  
noticing as she shifted her eyes away from his.  
  
She turned her body to the side, looking at the wooden door next to her.  
  
"I believe so. I'm just waiting for my friends, but I think I saw them go in  
  
there," She said, still not looking at him.  
  
"Thanks," Rune said, shifting the weight of his backpack, then carefully  
  
taking it off and putting it on the ground.  
  
"Are you waiting for Cesia?" He asked, sitting down next to his bag,  
  
directly across from her.  
  
"Yes," She nodded, "And Kitchel."  
  
"Oh."  
  
There was a lull in conversation as both parties sat in uncomfortable  
  
silence, searching for something sane to say.  
  
Tintlett could feel his eyes flit around the empty space for lack of  
  
anything better to do, and she felt them land on her a couple of times.  
  
She shifted slightly. She scooted her legs further under her dark skirt,  
  
tugging the material over her them, feeling vulnerable and uncertain for a  
  
reason unknown to her, yet at the same time, strangely... Not.  
  
That thought was finished weakly, she admitted to herself.  
  
Although she had always been good at writting essays and short stories,  
  
the words that she had previously called upon to do her bidding or to  
  
take her on their liquid journey through ink and paper seemed to have  
  
abandoned her. She could no more describe what she felt than she could  
  
figure out what to say to him.  
  
"So," She finally managed to push out from between rose tinted  
  
lips, "What are you doing after this?"  
  
"Going to my place with Thats and Rath," He said, "We need to practice."  
  
"For what?" She asked, curious. She tore her gaze away from the grain of  
  
the wood on the door and looked at him, forcing herself to stay afloat in  
  
the light blue of his eyes.  
  
He ran a hand up one of his arms, a nervious action that she remembered  
  
from their earlier days. Their eye contact broke as an embarressed grin  
  
played on his face.  
  
"A band. It was Rath's idea, actually," Rune said, glancing at her  
  
nerviously, uncertian what she would think of it.  
  
"Really?" She looked genuinly interested, he was relieved to notice.  
  
"That's neat. What do you play?"  
  
Tempted to say lead guitar, he admitted to playing the drums.  
  
She seemed to be relaxing now that they had found a safe topic to  
  
discuss, and continued talking.  
  
"Wow. What sort of music are you playing?" She probed, interest  
  
showing in her light teal eyes.  
  
He offered up the first thing he thought of.  
  
"Rock. We're going to participate in that contest next week."  
  
Tintlett gave him a small smile.  
  
"Good luck," Tintlett said as he returned the facial gesture, slightly  
  
uncertianly.  
  
"I hope you win." She added in, not quite sure what was proper to say.  
  
"Thank you," He replied, inclining his head slightly and falling silent once  
  
again.  
  
In the quiet pause, not as uncomfortable as earlier, but still not  
  
exactly pleasent, Rune managed to get a better look at the girl across  
  
from him. He knew that she was younger by two months and also a little  
  
shorter than him; he had to incline his head slightly to make eye contact  
  
with the azure depths in her delicate face. Large, limpid eyes were the  
  
main attraction on her face, not that the rest of it wasn't beautiful as well.  
  
They were a gentle shade of teal, with lighter blue flecks dancing inside of  
  
the vast azure drops, and practically radiated a sense of kindness.  
  
Warmth and welcome shone out of her eyes as tears would do for  
  
others.  
  
She had very fair skin and ears that were slightly pointed. Added to her  
  
fair complexion and soft features, she looked almost ethereal.  
  
Tintlett had long curling hair and had on more than one occasion been  
  
refered to as elven, a comment she seemed to take as a complement of  
  
the highest degree. Her curving figure was hidden beneath a long navy  
  
skirt and a snow-white top. Both fit her perfectly, and neatly set off her  
  
warm eyes.  
  
Rune had known her since first grade, when they had been placed  
  
together in the same class. He had been assigned a seat next to the  
  
small and quiet blonde girl, near the far left of the classroom. He had,  
  
later that first day of school at recess, and after much badgering and  
  
prodding from his friends, given her a small white and purple flower and a  
  
request for marriage. He remembered with a tiny grin the six year old girl  
  
staring at him with wide and sollum blue eyes, clutching the five petaled  
  
flower in chubby hands.  
  
They had become best of friends during the time when most kids  
  
considered the other gender the detested carrier of cooties, and had  
  
remained close until they left for seperate schools in fifth grade.  
  
Now however, they went to the same school again.  
  
The shock of discovering her in his homeroom on his first day of  
  
highschool as a Freshman would always be implanted in his memory.  
  
He hadn't seen her in four years, and then there she was, like magic.  
  
They had quickly started talking and become causal friends once more.  
  
But this time it was different.  
  
They were both older, they had both grown over the years in which they  
  
hadn't seen each other.  
  
It hadn't mattered at first; he had been casually dating one of his friends  
  
in their year by the name of Silk. Silk was a very tall, very slim girl with  
  
red-orange hair, constantly pulled back into a ponytail, only her short  
  
bangs hanging free. She had eyes like the sky after a storm, and a  
  
temper to match, although she rarely showed it. They had been going out  
  
for about a year and he had been perfectly content to stay in the  
  
relationship for another. However, after a rather messy situation involving  
  
her and another boy in their grade, one of his friends, actually, a break-  
  
up had been inevitable.  
  
He had no intention to experiance THAT again.  
  
The friends to lovers theory didn't work out, he had learned.  
  
Especially when the other didn't feel the same way you did.  
  
Stifling a depressed sigh, he slowly opened his backpack, pulling out a  
  
stack of homework and lost himself behind the thin pages of Hamlet.  
  
Tintlett's hand flew across the paper, lines as thin and fine as  
  
thread from a spider darting and slowly forming a perfect human body;  
  
not just a rough frame this time.  
  
She was working on a project for her art class: Drawing a person.  
  
The figure on the page was sitting crosslegged on an invisable surface,  
  
thin hair pulled back with a few stray strands coming loose and falling into  
  
his face as he, for it was a he, poured over a small paperback book held  
  
in his lap.  
  
She concentrated on her work for a long while, not speaking a word or  
  
looking up off her page as her creation slowly took shape and became  
  
more and more defined.  
  
It was for this reason that she did not notice right away when the door  
  
she was seated next to opened and a seventeen year old girl walked  
  
out, hoisting a heavy bag onto her back.  
  
"Hello, Cesia," She said, closing her black and white speckled  
  
notebook with a snap and started to stand up.  
  
"Is Kitchel done yet?"  
  
"No," Cesia shook her head, long wavy black hair flying like a banner in  
  
the air.  
  
"I don't think she'll be out for a while."  
  
"All right, then," Tintlett said, picking up her art supplies and backpack, "I  
  
can't wait here any longer. I'm getting picked up soon. Do you want to  
  
walk with me to the bus stop?"  
  
"Sure," Cesia agreed, "I don't want to wait for another hour or so.  
  
Besides, I want to get out of here before he," She expressed her distaste  
  
of the word with a grimace, "Gets out. Come on."  
  
She gave her friend's hand an impatient tug, indicating that they should  
  
start moving, and took a few steps down the hall, away from the door.  
  
Tintlett removed her hand from the other girl's grip, then followed her  
  
down the corridor.  
  
She paused and turned around after walking a short distance.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow, Rune," She called to the young man still sitting on  
  
the ground, "Good luck with your contest!" She gave him a wave and a  
  
small smile before continuing her trek out of the building.  
  
Rune stayed there, perfectly still, until after she left. He had been  
  
staring at the same spot in the book for quite a while, and let the mass of  
  
binding and paper fall to the floor, clear blue eyes seeing nothing, heart  
  
pounding quickly.  
  
Then, so slowly one might not notice it's movement, a thin shading of red  
  
wove it's way over the blushing surface of his face.  
  
***  
  
Well, there was supposed to be more, but I needed to do a space jump  
  
next, and this seemed like a good place to stop. Besides, I needed to  
  
update sometime soon. And this just seemed like a good chapter size, so  
  
I figured, heck, why not?  
  
***  
  
Stroke the ego... Make it grow... You know you want to...  
  
Click the little blue button! 


	7. Lyrics and Cousins

A/N: I want to give credit in advance to Trevor(Oscar), Chris Lau(Lau-Lau)  
  
and Jas(Psycho). These are three students in my Spanish class who have  
  
supplied many of the lines for Rath, Thats, and Cesia/Kitchel that I am  
  
planning on using a bit further on in this story. When the quotes do come  
  
up I'll mark them again, so as to give them credit for their brilliant lines.  
  
Actually, I don't see what it matters since they don't use ff.net and...  
  
Well... I don't think they know I overheard them.nervous laughter  
  
Please don't kill me, Jas...  
  
Kat: Yes, please don't... A while ago you asked me about Bierrez... Here  
  
he be!  
  
Ginsing: OO Eep! Radiation is scary!!! I am deathly afraid of radiation.  
  
I blame my sixth grade teacher for making me read "Z for Zacharia". Evil  
  
book that is. The only book I have ever wanted to burn. It gave me  
  
nightmares for a month, and paranoid for a full year(I kept track.).  
  
NEVER READ IT!!!  
  
Ten chapters, you guessed? Hm...does quick count on fingers Yeah, I  
  
think you may be more or less right. For the one I'm thinking about,  
  
anyway. There should be some kinkiness before that. Possibly not with  
  
our favorite knights, but it should be there.  
  
Look! Updated! No need to remind me in other people's reviews as well!  
  
;  
  
Fairy Tale Faerie: jumps up Oh no! What did I misspell?!runs around  
  
franticly  
  
Charna: glomps YOU REVIEWED ON MY BIRTHDAY (5/10)!!!   
  
Ok, now that that is out of my system... DC? Cool, never been there, or  
  
the East Coast, actually. West, yes, east, no. Thank you,bows for the  
  
comments and ego stroking. Yes, don't worry, there's a slow song in  
  
the list of songs in my head for them to play, and I'll try find some other  
  
genres as well.looks down at self Wow, I didn't realize it was a bubble.  
  
Cool.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Knights. I also don't own the song Real  
  
World by Matchbox 20.  
  
Warning: Swearing. Minor violence. Teenagers. Same as always.  
  
Rune sat on an upturned cardboard box, fingering a long wooden  
  
drumstick in his hand. He looked across the room to where Rath was  
  
pacing back and forth, his guitar neatly laid on the ground a few feet  
  
away. Rune's jacket lay on the floor alongside it, and he impatiently  
  
glanced at his watch for the fifth time that minute.  
  
"It's been eighty minutes since we left!" Rath complained, standing still  
  
and turning to talk to his friend, "What's taking him so long?!"  
  
An exhausted and annoyed voice spoke.  
  
"Funny that you ask."  
  
They both turned to the door to the basement. Framed in the light  
  
flooding down from the rest of the house was the figure of their missing  
  
band member, leaning on the door frame and obviously still catching his  
  
breath. Thats gave his head a hard shake, clearing all weariness from his  
  
vision, then sauntered down the stairs, sitting down on the last one, legs  
  
stretched out in front of him on the cool cement floor.  
  
"Did you know that it takes approximately twenty minutes to run from  
  
school to here?" He half questioned, half stated in an offhand way,  
  
quirking an eyebrow and waiting to see if the others would catch on.  
  
"Twenty minutes?" Rune asked, "How would you know... Oh," He said,  
  
taking a glance at the other's flushed face.  
  
"Why didn't you catch a ride with someone?" Rath asked.  
  
"I was supposed to. But then it took off without me," Thats said, still  
  
sounding casual.  
  
"What do you mean, it took off--" Once again, realization hit Rune in the  
  
face. A look of extreme apology washed over his features.  
  
"My God, Thats. I'm so sorry," He apologized, "I forgot I was giving you a  
  
ride today!"  
  
Thats sighed, "It's ok."  
  
"No, really, I'm very sorry," He said again, "Do you want a drink of water  
  
or something?"  
  
Thats waved his hand in dismissal, "Already got something. It's all good.  
  
It's ok," He repeated, reassuring the other boy.  
  
When he saw that Rune was still feeling guilty about forgetting to wait for  
  
him, he continued, talking in a lighthearted manner.  
  
"Hey, 's all good. The worst bit was waiting around in the cramped  
  
classroom for an hour," He made a face in disgust, "I hate being stuck in  
  
there! It bites!"  
  
"You shouldn't get in trouble so often," Rath commented, pointing out the  
  
obvious to the newly arrived boy.  
  
"Whatever," Thats rolled his eyes, then spoke again.  
  
"But why were you in there? You never get in trouble. Almost as goody-  
  
goody as Rune," He skillfully avoided the clenched fist coming down on his  
  
head and grinned at his glaring blonde friend, showing that it was meant  
  
in jest.  
  
Rath's face darkened.  
  
"I don't want to talk about it. It wasn't my fault."  
  
"Hey!" Thats said, standing up and wandering over to where the black  
  
case carrying the guitar he was using was, "That's what I always say!"  
  
He knelt on the ground, casually opening the case and removing the  
  
instrument inside.  
  
"Not that they believe me, of course."  
  
The dark haired boy walked over to his own guitar, "I don't mean it like  
  
that!" He snapped, "It actually wasn't my fault, some stupid girl got me in  
  
trouble! I didn't do anything!"  
  
"Ah," Thats nodded again, "Girls. So," He turned to face his friend, a  
  
teasing smirk on his face, "Do you like her?"  
  
The effect of his words was immediate.  
  
Deus slipped from Rath's grasp as he froze in shock, only to be snatched  
  
up once again a moment before it hit the hard floor. His muscles tensed,  
  
and he spun around on the heel of his boot to send the other boy an icy  
  
look as a muscle in his eye twitched madly. He opened and closed his  
  
mouth several times, apparently searching for a name foul enough to use  
  
on his so-called-friend.  
  
Rune, seeking to avert a massacre, intervened at this moment.  
  
"Thats," He said, stepping between the two boys, "I need help setting up  
  
the speakers. Could you help me?" He sent his friend still kneeling on the  
  
floor a pointed look when it seemed that he was about to complain.  
  
"Oh, fine," Thats sighed, standing up, "What do you want me to do?" He  
  
asked, mentally whining for stopping his fun.  
  
As he was given instructions on how to properly set up the rather  
  
delicate equipment("Why can't we just plug this in here..." "Ack! THATS!  
  
This stuff was expensive!"), Rath gave up on brutally murdering the other  
  
boy for the time being, instead setting about explaining to his friends why  
  
he was stuck in detention.  
  
"It's her fault. I was going to English, when I accidentally ran into her. I  
  
fell down and she got pissed at me and got me in trouble! Bitch," He  
  
added in as an afterthought.  
  
Rune looked up from where he was seated on the ground, carefully  
  
hooking up two sets of wires.  
  
"Why was she mad? Did you hurt her or something?"  
  
Rath scoffed, "Hardly. If anything, she hurt me when she dragged me to  
  
the principal's office by my wrist. Damn bitch has sharp nails."  
  
Thats raised an eyebrow at him, "Language, language."  
  
"Like you should be the one to talk, Thats," Rune stated casually.  
  
The other boy shrugged  
  
"Probably not, huh?" He grinned, standing up since he wasn't being  
  
allowed to actually touch the equipment anyway, and walking over to  
  
where the third Junior was scowling.  
  
"Ok, Romeo, so then what happened?"  
  
Rath glared at him, "Oh, shut up. I don't like her, ok?"  
  
Thats shrugged and motioned for him to go on.  
  
"Then I got detention for two hours. What else is there to tell?"  
  
"What did the almighty dictator of pms charge you on?" Thats asked,  
  
using the name for Alfeegi that annoyed said principal to the point of an  
  
explosion loud enough to be heard from any point in the state.  
  
He crossed his arms over his chest, "Don't laugh," He warned, reddening  
  
slightly.  
  
"Laugh?" Thats looked confused, "Why'd I laugh? You forget, I am the  
  
one who's left campus because I thought school was out, didn't do my  
  
Science homework for three weeks straight in my Freshman year, lost my  
  
schedule nine times in a row, and got in trouble for playing inappropriate  
  
music in the library. Trust me, I've done much stupider things than you  
  
have. There's no way I'm gonna laugh at you," He said reassuringly.  
  
Rune watched, curiosity written over his elegant features as Rath  
  
struggled and finally gave in to the other boy.  
  
"All right," He sighed, tensing slightly, "She accused me of sexual  
  
harassment."  
  
There was a long, pregnant pause in the small room before one of the  
  
three boys abruptly burst into hysterics.  
  
Rath glared.  
  
"Thats!"  
  
The brown haired boy was leaning a nearby box for support, unable to  
  
stand from laughing so hard.  
  
"She WHAT?!" He managed to gasp out before falling down to his knees  
  
at the sight of the embarrassed/angry look on his friend's face.  
  
"Accused me of sexual harassment, ok?" Rath growled. He was highly  
  
embarrassed and this sensitivity was making him extremely annoyed.  
  
"You said you wouldn't laugh!"  
  
"I know, I know," Thats said, starting to calm down, "But... It's just so...  
  
Damn funny..." He sniggered, biting his lip in an attempt to stop from  
  
laughing.  
  
"It could be worse, Rath," Rune said, standing up to comfort his friend.  
  
Rath glared at the taller boy. He had seen the amusement sparkling in his  
  
ice-water eyes.  
  
"Oh, shut up," He said halfheartedly, turning back to the other boy now in  
  
hysterics again, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his face in his hands  
  
as he tried to stifle the sound.  
  
"You too, Thats."  
  
Thats lifted his head, grinning cheekily at the boy with narrowed eyes.  
  
"Aw, come on. You have to admit, it is funny."  
  
"It is not!" Rath snapped, "She got me in trouble!"  
  
"Rath, she's a girl. Girls always get you in trouble," Thats stated calmly.  
  
"I thought you knew that already. I sure did. I mean, Rune gets me in  
  
trouble all the time. Not to mention that Freshman, what's-her-name,"  
  
"Pyrue?" Rune asked, kicking his friend none-too-lightly for marking him  
  
off as a girl.  
  
"Yeah, that's the one. And then there's Kitchel. Come on, Rath. They  
  
seem to enjoy it, or something." He stated, wincing and rubbing his leg  
  
where a bruise was starting to form.  
  
Rath rolled his eyes, fingers playing absent-mindedly over the taunt  
  
strings of his guitar, "I think you are an exception. No one else I know of  
  
has that problem."  
  
"Sure they do!" Thats insisted, "You agree with me, right, Rune?"  
  
The eldest boy shifted, suddenly uncomfortable.  
  
"Right?" He pressed, "You told me you agreed. What with the incident  
  
with Silk and all."  
  
Rune nodded slowly.  
  
"See?" Thats leaned back, tilting his head to look up at Rath.  
  
"I mean, sure, they can be nice, and they can be good looking, but they  
  
seem to have this thing for getting you in trouble. I swear, Kitchel gets  
  
me busted on something or other at least once a month."  
  
"That's only because you do the same thing to her, Thats," Rune pointed  
  
out, shaking off his discomfort as the attention moved away from him.  
  
"A technicality," He shrugged, then turned back to look at the black haired  
  
17 year old.  
  
"So what did she say you did? Grope her? Eye her? Touch her?"  
  
"Fell on her..." Rath muttered.  
  
"Hmm. That's a new one," Thats commented.  
  
"Did you?"  
  
They both turned to look at their friend.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Did you?" Rune repeated, showing an interest in the scenario once  
  
again.  
  
"Yeah," Rath said, "But I didn't mean to, I didn't even see her there. I just  
  
tripped and...fell. If anything, I should be the one accusing her."  
  
"Really?" Thats sat up, one eyebrow raised, "What did she do?"  
  
Rath took a step back, slightly unnerved by the look on his friend's face,  
  
"Nothing on purpose! She just... Yeah. Look, it's getting late. Shouldn't  
  
we start practicing?" He said in an abrupt change of subject that both the  
  
other boys noticed.  
  
"Sure," Rune nodded, sending a quick glance to Thats, "We should start."  
  
"Ok, gimme a second," The Junior got up off the ground and quickly  
  
gathered his instrument from it's place on the ground.  
  
"Right, ready."  
  
"Do you have anything written, Thats?" Rune asked just as the other was  
  
about to serenade them all with something called 'out-of-tune-electric-  
  
guitar-being-played-on-the-highest-volume-possible'.  
  
"Ah," He looked up, one hand hovering a fraction of an inch over the  
  
strings of his instrument.  
  
He scowled.  
  
"No."  
  
"What?! Thats! You needed to get something written by practice today!"  
  
Rune chastised the other boy.  
  
"I know," Thats let his arm drop to his side, the hand balling into a fist.  
  
"But I ran out of time!"  
  
Rune could feel his patience wearing thin as he spoke.  
  
"How could you run out of time? You're the one with the most time. You  
  
haven't contributed anything to this band so far, and all we asked you to  
  
do was to get a basic idea down on paper by this afternoon!"  
  
Thats cocked an eyebrow back at the older boy, then spoke with an  
  
annoyed tone of voice.  
  
"What do you mean I'm the one with the most time? You know how long  
  
my day is?"  
  
There was a silence as Rune looked torn between apologizing and  
  
striking back.  
  
Then a low laugh echoed off the cool walls of the room.  
  
Both teenagers turned to look at their dark haired friend.  
  
"Rath?" Thats asked tentatively.  
  
He spoke, "How long your day is? If we are going to play this game, then  
  
I'm sure to win. Listen to my life," He said, stopping his laughter.  
  
"I can't concentrate on my school work or tests; I have class with a man I  
  
hate; can't stand most of the people around me; am constantly late to  
  
class because of things I have no control over; and then today," A touch  
  
of bitterness invaded his voice, "Some idiot bitch decides to have some  
  
fun and drag me into a heap of trouble. Detention! What the hell?! Two  
  
fucking hours of detention! For what, falling down on my sorry ass!"  
  
Rune and Thats exchanged a glance that as the other boy ranted.  
  
"Rath," The blonde said calmly, "Don't you think you may be overreacting  
  
just a little?"  
  
"Overreacting?!" Rath fumed at him, "Like hell I'm overreacting! I'd like to  
  
see you live as me for just one day!"  
  
"It doesn't seem all that hard," Thats muttered, "Have bad luck, periods  
  
of hyperactivity, and a short temper. That just about covers it."  
  
"No, it doesn't!" He shouted, causing the other boy to take a step back in  
  
surprise, "It's a lot more than--" He let out a soundless noise of anger,  
  
then slumped down on to the ground, knees drawn up to his chest and  
  
his arms crossed across them.  
  
"I wish the real world would just stop hassling me," He muttered to the  
  
sticky silence surrounding him as both his friends stared at him, mild  
  
surprise showing on their faces.  
  
No one spoke for several seconds, then Rune broke the tense still.  
  
"I wish the real world would just stop hassling me," He mused, no longer  
  
looking at Rath, but instead staring thoughtfully into the distance.  
  
"You know, it does have a certain..."  
  
"Quality," Thats stated, catching on to what the other was thinking of.  
  
He nodded, slowly coming back to reality.  
  
"What do you think, Thats?"  
  
"I think we have something here."  
  
Rath looked up, confused, as he heard the other two boys talking, but  
  
not about him.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
His lightly tanned friend grinned at him.  
  
"Come on, Rath," He extended a hand to help him to his feet.  
  
"Let's get to work learning your song."  
  
Rath blinked, startled.  
  
"My... Song?"  
  
...I got home late today(Detention. Again. Plus Caf. duty which sucks to  
  
no end.), so this post is gonna be short in the extreme. I don't have  
  
much time since I actually want to get some of my homework done before  
  
school tomorrow. Not much happened anyway,--  
  
"Kitchel?"  
  
Said girl turned her head, looking over her shoulder at the person  
  
standing behind her.  
  
She was lying on her freshly made bed in the clothes she wore to school  
  
that day, typing on a small silver laptop that was currently resting on her  
  
white pillow.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Don't you have work to be doing?"  
  
She rolled her eyes, "Who are you, my mother?" She said, snickering at  
  
that mental image. Nevertheless, she finished her sentence, pressed  
  
save, and closed the lid of her laptop.  
  
"What are you doing back so early, anyway, Bierrez? I thought you had  
  
work after school today?"  
  
"No. That's tomorrow," He said admonishingly.  
  
"Whatever."  
  
Kitchel cast a casual glance over her older cousin. He stood at about  
  
5'10", with light skin and fine hair the color of dirt swirling through a lit fire  
  
in a messy, jagged cut. He had bright emerald eyes containing an almost  
  
perpetually serious look and a mouth to match. Bierrez rarely smiled.  
  
He was wearing a pair of long black pants and a matching tank top. A  
  
metal armband rested around the upper portion of his left arm. It was  
  
made out of a deep and tarnished bronze, it's interlocking portions  
  
weaving a loose braided pattern around his firm upper arm.  
  
"Jeeze, what's up with you today?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow at  
  
him, "You look like a goth or something. Oh, I forgot," She said, rolling off  
  
her bed and squatting on the ground next to her backpack, "I am talking  
  
to Mr. Darkness is My Friend."  
  
He gave her an unamused look, "I don't bother you about your clothes,  
  
so get off my back about mine."  
  
Kitchel grinned at the older boy, "Just joking," She stood up, a pile of  
  
books and papers in her arms, "You know I love you."  
  
"Unfortunately," He muttered, allowing a small grin to escape.  
  
"Get to work. Dad won't be home 'til late tonight and I have to go pick up  
  
Fiji. I expect you to have a good amount done when I get back," He called  
  
over his shoulder as he strode out of her room, snatching a long coat off  
  
it's hook on the wall in the hallway.  
  
"You leaving now?" Kitchel popped her head out of the room.  
  
When he nodded in reply, she continued.  
  
"Hey, is Gil gonna come by?"  
  
He shrugged, "How should I know? You know his schedule better than I  
  
do, Kitchel."  
  
"Yeah, but I thought he might tell you," She said, "You are his brother."  
  
"Well," Bierrez walked out the front door, "You are his sister."  
  
The wooden door closed behind him and Kitchel listened as his footsteps  
  
hurried down their front stairs and into the garage. It wasn't until she  
  
heard the sound of a car starting that she spoke, a strange half-grin on  
  
her noramlly cheerful face that didn't quite reach her eyes.  
  
"A sister, huh?"  
  
She went back into her room.  
  
"I'm glad."  
  
Is it just me, or do the pairings for stories in the Dragon Knights section  
  
of ff.net go in waves? I seem to remember that there was a time when it  
  
seemed like every single story was a RathxThats or a RathxRune, and  
  
then for a while there was a lot of Dragon Officer romance, and now there  
  
seems to be an overabundance of RathxCesia. Or maybe it's just me...  
  
Review?  
  
Try imagine Bierrez in a frilly pink apron with a duster in one hand and an  
  
oven mitt on the other... XD 


	8. Home Life and Inspiration

Oh, CRAP. I'm so sorry, I forgot that fanfiction doesn't accept stars anymore, hence the lack of dividers. Here, I've put them in, and fixed up that last scene(had written it while being yelled at to get off the computor), so THANK YOU ALL for being so forgiving and patient! So sorry about the long pause in updates, and then for this mistake...

-Ally

iiiii

Disclaimer: I(Allyson, aka Aquajogger) do not, in any part, shape, or form, own any characters mentioned anywhere in this chapter or story(Fame and Fortune). They all belong to Miss Ohkami and Tokyo Pop. Not me.

I also don't own the lyrics to "Real World" or "Superman", ok?

Warning: Dirty mouths("Orbit gum cleans yet another dirty mouth!" ...Ok, I've seen that commercial too many times.), teenagers, mentions of gay couples.

IMPORTANT: Hitler did terrible things. There is nothing funny about him. There is, however, a disturbingly large amount of strange information on him. Please, please nobody take offence at the Hilter joke. I don't mean to poke fun at WWII or at the holocaust, just at the random facts collected about Hilter.

Kat: Don't glare at airlines! I don't want to crash(Obviously I didn't because I am posting now... But when I wrote this part it was still May.)! I love Bierrez. Not as much as Thats, however. Oh well.

Ginsing1: Shydeman/Shyrendora? That must have been while I was gone... I didn't stray onto the DK turf from early October until about Valentines day... I was too ashamed... V.V;

insaneoveranime: I'm glad you like it. :freaks out: Don't be not interested! That's one of my pairings, I swear! This whole fic has sprung from that pairing! Just hold on a second, k? It shall have plenty of RxC by the end...

Lexzzz: Wow, thank you! Updated!!

Charna: Whoo! 2008! Yeah!!high fives Yeah, that last chapter should have been longer. Oh, well. I hope the length of this one makes up for it!

Lisa: Yes, RuneTintlett DOES equal cute! o Book fiftten, CUTE!

iiiii

"I wish the real world would just stop hassling me..." Thats trailed off, stalking back and forth diagonally across the room.

"I wish..." His voice blended into the background noise of his feet padding across the hard ground.

Rune looked up from where he was seated infront of a piece of folder paper, partially written on, but still dissapointingly blank.

"We could use that part for a chorus. What do you think, Rath?"

The last boy shrugged.

"I guess. Pretty crap chorus, though."

His eyes followed the moving figure of his friend.

"Are you trying to wear down the cement, or something?"

Thats shook his head irritably.

"Course not. I'm trying to think, but I've got another song stuck in my head. It's distracting me."

"Oh."

Rune nerviously tapped his foot on the ground a few times.

"What song is it?"

Thats glanced at Rath as he passed by him again.

"Superman."

"Superman?"

"Yeah. You know, 'I can't stand to fly, I'm not that naïve'," He quoted a few lines of the song, trying to jog the other's memory.

"Never heard it."

"Yeah, you have. It plays on the radio all the time. Here," Thats proceeded to hum a few bars for his friend's benefit.

Rune had been watching all this, wondering absentmindedly if he should tell them to get back to work, and decided to speak up.

"Thats, stop that. You're reminding me of my history paper on Hilter."

The brown haired Junior stopped short.

"What?"

"Rune had to do a paper on Hitler," Rath piped up, "He found out all sorts of weird facts, like how he wouldn't take off his coat in public, no matter how hot it was, and howhis doctor was giving him drugs that ended up making him parinoid."

"And this is relevent how?" Thats asked, raising an eyebrow.

Rath ignored him and kept talking, more to himself than to anyone else.

"He also found out that he had only one testic--"

"One of the other things I found out," Rune hurridly cut him off, before Rath could finish his statment, paving the way for a wide array of dirty comments, "Was how he would, when pacing, always walk across a room diagonally, and to the tune he was humming."

Thats raised his other eyebrow.

"Researchers... Some people have too much time on their hands," he muttered.

"Thats?"

"Yeah?"

"We shouldn't be the ones talking."

iiiii

Kitchel lay on her back on the carpeted floor, staring up at the cealing of the room she shared with her younger cousin, Fiji. The fact that Fiji was seven would explain why she was looking up at a large number of glow-in-the-dark stars.

"I seriously don't feel like doing homework."

She rolled over onto her stomach, glaring at the pile of schoolwork lying a few feet away from her head.

"But I should get a start."

She reluctantly sat up, slowly reaching forward for the thick book on the top of the stack.

The noise of a car pulling up into the driveway caught her attention, and she jumped up, climbing onto the younger girl's bed, and craning her head to look out the window to the garage below.

An old beat up blue truck had just pulled up, and as she watched the driver turned off the engine and opened his door, stepping out into the afternoon sunlight. He was of a slim build, with messy shoulder length red hair, falling into his deeply tanned face and green eyes.

"Gil's home!"

The passengerside door opened as well, and another young man got out. He was larger, with closely cut brown hair and light skin. As he shut the door behind him, talking to her cousin, and laughing at a joke, Kitchel slid off the bed, heading for the door.

"And Laam!" she grinned, "He's a guest! Can't work while there are guests here! Not polite!"

It was with this cheerful thought that she opened the front door , calling out to the two college students walking towards her.

"Hey, Gil, Laam!" she enthusically hugged first one, then the other, letting them in and shutting the door behind them.

"Barl's not home yet, and Bierrez went to pick up Fiji. Are you both staying for dinner?"

When the red head nodded, she continued, "Great! I'll call Bierrez and tell him to get more food while he's at it, too. Any preferences? Because it's his turn to cook, and unless you tell him otherwise, he'll get some health food junk," she thought for a moment, "Or pizza. He'll bring home pizza sometimes."

Laamgarnas laughed again. He had met everyone Kitchel mentioned a long time ago, and was practically considered family, but this oddball mixture of people never failed to entertain him.

"Pizza's good."

"All right!" Kitchel grabbed the cordless phone off the nearby floral print sofa, "I'll tell him that. Hawaiian ok?"

Without waiting for an answer she began to dial, still happy for the excuse to postpone her work.

Gil rolled his eyes goodnaturedly and motioned for his friend to follow him as he walked up a flight of stairs to the second level of his house to the sound of the younger girl arguing with his brother about the health benefits of pineapple.

iiiii

"Ok, so what about something like 'Yeah, speak up, what did you want to hear/ If I were someone else, would this all fall apart?/ Yeah, where were you when we got this started?/I wish the real world would just stop hassling me,'" Rune looked up into the startled faces of his two compainions.

"...What?"

They shared a glance.

"Um, Rune?" Thats looked at him questioningly, "You realize we have no idea how you did that so quickly, right?"

The blonde glanced down at the piece of paper, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face and behind his ear as he spoke.

"Well," he started, "I was thinking about us starting up the band, and about Rath's line, and just started writing."

Thats nodded.

"Thought so. In that case, Rath and I vote you our lyrics man."

"What?!"

"You can write all the songs."

"But," Rune fumbled for words, "Why?"

"Because Thats and I suck," Rath supplied, sitting down and plucking a few chourds on his instrument.

"Correction. You suck. I just have no inspiration."

The black haired boy shrugged.

"The point is, Rune, that you get to write everything."

The eldest teenager sighed.

"Great..."

He drummed the pencil on the dusty chair he was using as a table, then looked up again.

"Wait, if I'm in charge of writing the songs what are you two in charge of doing?"

"Well," Thats thought for a moment, "Rath is the lead singer, so he just needs to make sure that he knows all the music and lyrics, since he's the one people will be paying the most attention to, and I'll," he paused again, then grinned, "There's nothing else to do, so I'll be in charge of sitting here and making sure you two do your jobs!"

He dropped down to the ground, somehow managing to pull out his C.D. player, pop the headphones on, and hit the play button before anyone was able to object.

"Waitaminute! Thats!"

The boy in question reached up and pulled the headphone off one ear, "Yeah, Rune?"

"You can't just sit there! You need to do something! Teamwork!"

The teen smirked, "Well, what else is there for me to do? Rath's gotta learn his part, you need to write the lyrics. It looks like we're all out of jobs. Nothing for me to do!"

With that, he let the headphone snap back to it's comfortable position of wrapping snugly around his ear, and turned the volume up in an attempt to drown out the other's protesting voices.

Rune paused in his torrent of accusations and complaints, the gears in his head swiftly turning, helped along by the faint strands of music they could now hear in the background, coming from the small silver object held in their bassist's lap.

A more than slightly evil smile lit up his face.

"Actually, Thats," his grin broadened as the other looked up suspiciously, "There is something else for you to do."

iiiii

Cesia sat down behind the screen of her computor, pressing the space bar and watching as the machine woke up, it's screen turning from black to a picture of her and her two friends at the beach. This background was covered slightly by an open window, on which part of an idle conversation could be seen.

She glanced at the last few lines, then began to type a response to "FarieDreamer06".

WindSorceress6669: bk. Yea, idk. Never told me.

There was a moment's pause, then a new message appeared on the screen from her friend.

FarieDreamer06: Really? I thought you asked her last week? Wasn't she supposed to tell you?

Cesia nodded, forgetting for a moment that she couldn't be seen, then typed an answer, continuing their exhange.

WindSorceress6669: she was. Didn't, tho. It's irritating! It's just a simple question, you'd think she'd b able 2 answer me!

FarieDreamer06: Do you think she forgot about it? It's Kitchel. Seems likely. ...No offence to her.

WindSorceress6669: hmm...Maybe. She's not on now, tho, so I can't ask her. Think we should give her a ring?

FarieDreamer06: It's 6 o' clock. Wouldn't she be eating dinner?

WindSorceress6669: Ah, right.

About to add in more, Cesia was interrupted by a knock on her closed door, then by said door opening to reveil her younger brother, two of his friends flanking him.

"What is it, Zoma?" Cesia asked, spinning her chair around to face him and ignoring the irritating beep her computor made to alert her to the fact that "FarieDreamer06", the screen name Tintlett had chosen in sixth grade and never gotten around to changing, had just sent her another message.

"Um," the boy shot a glance at the computor screen, "I just wanted to tell you that I'm going to go to the movies with my friends."

Cesia looked briefly at the boy and girl on either side of him.

"Hi Ringleys, Riima," she turned her attention back to her sibling, "Fine by me. Taking the bus?"

Zoma nodded;less than a block away from their house was a bus stop.

"All right. Have fun!"

The three younger teens waved goodbye and started to walk away.

"Wait!"

Zoma looked over his shoulder.

"Do you have correct change?"

"Uh, yeah," he said, fishing in his pocket to eventually retrieve a small pile of coins.

"See you later, Cesia!" he turned back to his friends, when his sister interrupted him again.

"Do you have money for the movie, too?"

About to speak, Zoma was cut off by the short Asian girl next to him.

"Yeah, it's my turn to pay," she held up a glittery pink wallet for the older girl to see.

"Oh, thanks," Cesia acknowledged the gift, then spoke to her brother once more.

"Did you get jackets?"

"Yes..."

"Money for snacks?"

"Yeah..."

"Don't buy too much, it'll spoil your appitite for dinner! And make sure not too buy anything that is obviously overpriced!"

"Uh," Zoma sweatdropped as Riima began to giggle and Ringleys put a hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter, eyes rolling towards the cealing.

"I'm sure we'll be fine, Cesia," he said, grinning nerviously, "But if we don't go now, we'll miss the bus!"

"Oh. Right," the Junior said, snapping out of maternal mode, "Have fun, then! I'll see you later!"

"Bye!" Zoma called as he dissapeared out of her sight, listening to Riima launch into a monolouge about a particularly attractive warrior from her Dungens and Dragons game.

He opened the front door, and closed and locked it behind him as all three of them stood blinking in the bright light on the sidewalk in front of his house. About to walk down the street towards the bus stop, he was halted in his tracks by the calling of his name.

"Zoma!"

Slightly worried, he turned around, looking back towards his house.

Cesia had opened her bedroom window and was leaning halfway out of it, asking him something in a voice loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear.

"You've finished your homework, right?"

"Agh," Zoma winced, reaching up and brushing a too-long lock of black hair out of his face, "No, but..."

"Zoma!"

He looked up into the furious face of his elder sister, instinctivly taking a step backwards.

"I'll do it! Swear!"

"Zoma..." she growled.

"I will," the Sophmore protested, "I just want to--"

"Get back in here now! You knowyou're not supposed to go out before finishing your work!"

"Yeah, but," he glanced down at the ground, then back up at Cesia, putting on the cutest face he could muster.

"Please, Cesia?"

The older girl glared ferociously at him, but relented.

"Fine. Don't blame me when you fail," she added in menicingly.

"Thanks!" he said, relieved that she had let it drop that quickly, "I'll be back in a few hours!"

She sent him a slightly softer look, then pulled her head back into her room, slamming the window after her.

"Lord," Zoma let out a deep breath, "That's over."

"She's pretty loud when she wants to be," Riima said, stating the obvious, "But back to what I was saying. So I was on level fifteen, and you know that blue soldier? If you press A and up, then..."

Ringleys intterupted her, as he pulled his jacket off in the heat, "No way, you're supposed to hit A and right! It said on this game faqs webpage I found--"

"That's not what I'm talking about! I'm talking about the way to get that Light Sword, not the Healing Water!"

"Riima, I know what you're talking about," Zoma said, giving the girl a tug on her long dark hair to get her attention, "No need to shout!"

The afternoon sun beat down on the three teeangers, quickly falling into an alternative universe of their own creation.

iiiii

"No way. No, no, no, no, no. No damn way!"

"Thats," Rune put on a patronizing tone of voice that made Rath cringe, "It's only fair. Besides, it really needs to be done. And as you pointed out, Rath and I already have things to do. This will be a big help."

Thats crossed his arms stubbornly, shaking his head as a bunch of rust-colored hair fell into his set face.

"No way!"

His hand strayed to the CD player now resting at his side, the word 'paused' flashing on it's minute screen.

"But," Rune switched tactics, "You're the one who is the best at things like this! You listen to music all the time," he swatted away the other boy's hand, preventing him from proving that last statement true, "Rath and I can't do this, but you would be able quite easily. Please, Thats? We really need your help."

The tanned Junior sent a look into his friend's blue eyes that screamed, 'Yeah. Right.', but reluctantly relented.

"Fine, no need to grovel," he rolled his eyes at the other boy, "Your buttering up really needs some work, by the way."

"You mean you'll do it?" Rune asked, enthused.

"Yeah, yeah," the teenager waved his hand at him, "I'll do it."

Rath looked up from where he had been spacing out, staring at a spot a few inches from his face.

"Said yes?"

The blonde boy nodded, "We've got ourselves a composer!"

iiiii

"So."

Gil glanced over his shoulder at the young man standing in his door way, from where he was busied with struggling to open the glass window above his bed.

"What? Umph," he finally succeeded in opening it, letting a breath of fresh air into the small room, "Laamgarnas?"

"Nothing," the older boy responded, walking in and closing the door softly behind him.

He plopped himself down on the other's bed, and began talking again, cheerfully this time.

"Thanks for the lift! I can't believe I forgot my spare tire!"

Gil shrugged, a motion that he somehow managed to convey as catlike, then pulled out a chair from where it stood next to his desk.

"No problem," he sat down.

"And thanks for letting me stay for dinner," Laamgarnas added with a broad grin.

Gil shrugged again, messy locks of crimson fire falling rougishly into his green eyes.

They lapsed into silence, the only sound Laamgarnas nerviously fidgeting with the loose blanket spread over the other's bed.

Then, abrubtly, he spoke.

"What you said before. It's not--"

The was the harsh scraping of wood against wood as Gil roughly shoved the chair back, jumping up and sending a frightened glare down into the his friend's face.

"Look, sorry," Laamgarnas started to quickly retrace his steps, hazel eyes flashing with worry.

"No," Gil had gotten himself under control now, and had erased his feral look, "I told you. I can't just do that. Maybe if mother was still here, but not with the way it is now. Now there's just dad," a pause, "And Kitchel..." he trailed off, not wanting or needing to repeat what he had just explained earlier that day.

"It's ok," Laamgarnas forced himself to smile reassuringly at the other young man, "I understand completly. You can't just throw everything away like that. I'm sorry."

The redhead relaxed, sinking down into his seat again.

"But, Gil, you--"

Whatever he was going to say was cut short as the door to the room burst open, a smiling seven year old running in.

"Gil! Kitchel said you were back!" she exclaimed joyfully, running to her older brother, and jumping into his lap.

The two collage students shared a startled look, then Gil slowly stood up, giving the younger girl plenty of time to slide down to the ground.

"I take it Bierrez is back, then?" he said, walking to the now open door, and breathing deeply as the smell of food wafted up the stairs.

"Yeah," the little girl nodded, squeezing past her brother who still stood in the doorway, and skipping out into the hallway.

"He got pizza!" she exclaimed, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the nearby staircase, "Kitchel wanted Hawaiian, but he wanted Vegitarian, so they let me choose!" she chatted away, pulling Gil after her as she explained the events of her day, "And now we have--"

"YOU GOT MUSHROOM AND ANCHOVIE?!"

"LOOK, IT WASN'T MY IDEA!!"

Gil winced.

Looked like they were in for a long night.

As the sound of Gil's little sister dragging him away faded, and the racket made by Kitchel and Bierrez turned abruptly into muffled laughter, Laamgarnas stood up.

Gil was right.

He couldn't expect him to leave all this behind.

"Hey, Laam! You coming?" Kitchel's voice called up from the first floor.

"Yeah," he shouted back , starting to make his way out of the other boy's room, "I'm coming!"

He soundlessly closed the door behind him.

He couldn't ask that of him.

iiiii

"And where do you think you are going?"

Thats sweatdropped, one foot raised above the first step on the stairs leading up to the main level of his friend's house.

"Uh, why?"

"Because," Rune snapped, roughly pulling him back, "You need to be working!"

"I have been!" he protested, giving the other an indignent look.

This was partially true. Over the past two hours he had dutifully sat on the ground, trying for the most part to come up with a melody to which their lyrics could be played to. It was rather hard to stay focused, however, and although Rune was nearing completion with the first draft of their song, just needing another verse and a few more ryming words, Thats was still stuck humming the tune to 'Superman', and wondering how to get out of this sticky prediciment he had gotten himself into.

"Not hard enough!" Rune growled, oblivious to the way that Rath, standing directly behind him, was mimicing his every word, much to the ammusment of the boy he was currently berating.

"Geeze," Thats stifled a laugh, "What sharp object is wedged up your ass? It's just a tune, we still have time. You still haven't finished the lyrics. Since when have you been this concerned about this gig, anyway?"

Rune sent him a dirty look, mentally chalking down the word 'gig' as usable in the still-forming lyrics.

"I know what this means to Rath, but it's never seemed to hold this much water for you," Thats continued, "What happened?"

"I," the Junior started, then realized who he was talking to, and decided that, although the other boy was a great friend, he was also seriously getting on his nerves at the moment, and did not deserve to be told.

"Never mind," he noticed the curious look sent in his direction, and decided to change the subject.

"Sorry. So, you wanted to take a break?"

"Um, yeah," Thats said, now slightly suspicious, "I can work on this break, you know. Think," he dug around for an excuse as to why he shouldbe allowed to leave, "I can't think down here, it's too inclosed and," he snicked as Rath, slightly crazed with bordom, made innapropriate gestures behind Rune's back, "Very distracting. I'll be able to think better if I can just get out; walk around for a while."

"Fine by me. You know where everything is. Just come back down if you come up with anything, all right?"

"Um," Thats blinked, very surprised that he was going to be let off that easily, "Sure. Yeah, will do. See you guys in a bit."

He left his friends behind, taking the steps two at a time at he darted upwards, out of the cool basement, and into the pleasent warmth of the rest of Rune's house.

As thats pushed the door open, stepping out into a sudden change of temperature, he was suddenly hit by a strong nagging feeling in the back of his mind. A feeling of pieces slowly falling together, strangly enough, on several different levels.

"Weird," Thats muttered to himself, "I guess I really did just need to get out of the clastrophobic room."

With a shrug, he none-to-gently closed the door behind him, and set off in the direction of the well stocked kitchen not too far away, rubbing his hands together as he went.

"So let's just see what Runey-boy has in his fridge, then I can head outside and relax..."

iiiii

FarieDreamer06: Cesia?

FarieDreamer06: Cesia, are you there?

FarieDreamer06: .........Cesia?

WindSorceress6669: Oh, sorry. got distracted.

Tintlett smiled to herself.

"I could tell. What happened?" she typed, reading the quick reply from her friend.

WindSorceress6669: Zoma! ARG!

The blonde girl giggled at the evasive answer, then asked why.

WindSorceress6669: Schoolwork. Not doing it, AGAIN!! he can be so frustrating at times!

Tintlett casually reached over to the small cellphone resting on her desk. She dialed Cesia's home phone humber, and was soon speaking directly to the other girl, instead of sending hastily typed messages through a computor screen.

"Cesia?" she listened as the other girl spoke rapidly for several minutes, getting whatever problem that was bothering her out of her system, then interrupted, right as Cesia was about to start in again from the start.

"Wait, Cesia. I think I have a solution. You said that it's just that he doesn't apply himself, right?"

She stood up and started searching for something in her room, looking first through a set of drawers by her bed, then on her bookshelf, then finally coming to a stop at her dresser drawers.

"Well, it sounds like all he needs is someone to make sure he stays on track, then. You know, one of those afterschool programs where they help you with your homework and everything. And," she smiled, brushing a strand of fine blonde hair behind her ear as she picked a slightly bent business card off the wooden top of her dresser, "I think I know just the number for you to call."

iiiii

The Junior stole a look out of the open window, glancing down at the grass below.

"Man, this bites."

He was irritated, as that annoying feeling of being so close and yet so far away from an important discovery was still upon him.

"Plus, I've gotta work after school again tomorrow," he sighed, leaning on the whitewashed window sill in Rune's bedroom, "With Kitchel."

Thats rolled his eyes.

"Isn't that going to be fun."

He shook his head, trying to clear the persistant feeling from it.

"Unless, of course, she manages to worm her way out of it. She's pretty good at stuff like that," he puased for a second, thinking, "Although 'Feegi's pretty pissed. I don't think he'll let her get out of it. Is that good or bad?" Thats wondered, weighing both options.

He shrugged.

"Oh, well."

Having run out of things to talk to the empty room about, he lapsed into silence, staring moodily out of the window, silently pursuing his last trian of thought, but not caring to turn his mental conversation into spoken words, as they would not make much sense, anyway.

It was then that he heard the clear beat of music.

Jerking his head up, forgetting what he was thinking about, he looked around the room, then realized that there was nothing present that would have -for it had dissapeared almost as suddenly as it had sprung up- created that noise.

Tentitvly he began to speak again, continuing where he left off.

"So if Kitchel is there, then..."

There.

There it was again.

He didn't move, and it took him a few heartbeats to realize that he wasn't actually hearing anything at all.

The music was floating in on an invisible breeze, skipping past his nervious system, and forming directly in his mind.

"Then I'll have someone to be annoyed by, and someone to,"

Gears on two differnt levels worked at the same time, both trying frantically to get their interlocked messages across.

Emerald irises widened, their small black velvet centers shrinking, as he once again heard what he was searching for, the answer to the problem posed to him by two teenaged boys a floor below.

But with it, the melody had planted the seed to different answers as well.

There was a moment of silence, as the tune engraved itself into his memory, and then he suddenly jumped up, eyes shining, and a smile on his face.

A frantic and suddenly understandable confusion briefly clouded his veins, but was pushed off to the side by the tune reverberating in his head.

After all, inspiration had finally struck.

The pieces had snapped into place.

"Alright," he whispered, confidantly rerunning the fresh music in his mind, "I've got us a song."

iiiii

I don't like Hawaiian pizza. But that has nothing to do with anything...

Review, please!! I promise to update my other stories soon if people review this!!!(::is evil::)


	9. Tutors and Tears

Kat: Yes, yes... You do deserve credit for that! In fact, I shall even add in a little A/N every time something you deserve credit for appears, ok?

Ginsing: lol. I know what you're talking about. I received an e-mail once about it. The WHOLE thing was done like that!

Charna: Yeah, I forgot about the lack of stars on But I did fix it! You realize we've gone through at least three entirely filled up e-mails?

Lisa: Ug, I wouldn't, but...

Lexzzz: Hm. Just out of curiosity, what does that name mean, if anything?? And it is updated!

Hungry Demon: Yes! GMTA!! And those lyrics are actually a first draft of something that will look suspiciously like "Real World" ...I don't own that song, btw.

Insaneoveranime: Oh, good to know! And obsessions are fun, aren't they? Heeheeheee. Awesome site!

Ellabel: GASP! A FAMOUS PERSON!!::loves:: Plus, you are a Thatchel fangirl!!::loves more:: THATCHEL!! YEAH!! (P.S. I'm glad you like Rath, and Alfeegi would make a scarily awesome principal!)

:n:

"Rune!" Thats burst through the door leading to the cellar, a broad grin on his face.

"Rune!"

The blonde boy below looked up from his seat on the cold cement ground, allowing himself of be momentarily distracted before turning back to the teenager before him, guitar strapped to him and playing a few strands of music.

"What is it, Thats?"

His smile widened with pride as the music he had recently stumbled across played yet again in his mind.

"I've got us a song," he stated simply, envisioning the look of utter surprise and amazement he would find on the faces of the other two.

"Oh. That's nice."

Thats blinked.

"Waitaminute. 'That's nice'? I got us a song! I," he empathized, "Got us a song! You know, me, the slacker, the guy who doesn't pull his weight! I've got a song! An entire one! It only took me," he glanced at his watch, "An hour!"

Seeing the blank and somewhat bemused looks on the faces of the two Juniors standing a few feet below him, he felt his face fall.

"Don't you at least want to hear it?" he pleaded.

"Well, see," Rune ran a hand down his arm, "We already have one."

"Rune came up with it," the black haired boy put in, "About ten minutes ago."

"...What?"

Rune trained his gaze to the ceiling, pointedly attempting to ignore the aghast look on his friend's face.

"It's just that... I finished the first draft of the lyrics, and wanted to work on something else. Besides," he looked back down with a new lightness in his voice as he hit on something, "This is actually a good thing! Now we have music for another song!"

"Yeah," Thats muttered as he slouched against the frame of the door, "But no lyrics."

Rath shrugged, briefly tracing his fingers down the taunt strings of his instrument, "Not for long. Rune'll probably come up with another one soon. Then we can use that."

"Actually, I think Thats should be the one to write the lyrics for his music," Rune said thoughtfully, oblivious of the dismayed look Thats was bearing.

"...What?!"

"It's a good idea!" Rune explained, "We'll all probably need solos anyway, so it's a good idea to start working on yours now. The song will be entirely your own. Your music, your lyrics."

"Geeze. I don't 'do' lyrics," he complained slouching over, then straightened considerably as something hit him.

"Wait. Solos? As in something we sing by ourselves? No one else?"

Rune nodded, cocking an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Yes... That is what the word 'solo' usually implies."

"Crap!" Thats swore, "No one told me I had to sing! I figured that I was bass! I wouldn't have to sing!"

"Didn't you read the flyer?" Rath asked, referring to the papers containing information on the contest that had been posted around town for the past few months, "It said that it was preferred if every member was able to offer their own individual song... One sung by them alone."

"Oh. Preferred."

Even in the dim lighting in the basement, it was easy to see the way the Junior relaxed.

"So it's not mandatory, right?"

Rune stood.

"Thats, they only say that. What it really means is that either your band can offer individual songs for every member, or you are content to put your talents to use as the people working lights and sound."

"Ah, that's ok. I'm in Tech anyway."

The teenager standing in the wide doorway gulped and took an involuntary step backwards into the lit room behind him as he saw the look of extreme irritation bordering on furious anger in his friend's clear eyes.

"...Or not."

:n:

The ringing of the phone attached to the kitchen wall jerked Kai-Stern out of his half-awake daze.

"'Lo?" he muttered sleepily into the object, blinking blearily at the text book spread out on the counter in front of him.

"No, he's not in right now. Can I take a message? Who's calling?" he asked, automatically going through the niceties as his mind wandered back to his studies.

"Uh-huh, ok, Cesia. How do you spell that?" he quickly jotted the name down on a leaf of messy notes concerning various political systems, and continued listening.

"All right, so this is for a Zoma. Z-o-m-a? Yeah, ok," he scrawled the second name down as well, along with a few more bulleted sentences and a phone number.

"Ok, I'll tell him to call you when he gets in!" Kai-Stern said with the brand of false cheer used by people when ushering salesmen or girl scouts to the door, "Um, he's normally available Friday and Wednesday, but I'll have to ask him. Ok, yes, I'll have him call you later!"

With that, he quickly hung up the phone, turning his attention back to memorizing a long list of facts and information for his class.

Kai-Stern was currently sharing a small dorm apartment with his old friend, as they both worked themselves through college. Although the other man had recently discovered a way to make an small added income in addition to the jobs they had both been able to get scheduled around their classes. His friend's extra job and the lack of any sort of love life insured that Kai-Stern spent much of his spare time at home, studying. It was working wonders on his grades, but killing his people skills.

He allowed a sigh to escape from his lips.

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. Maybe this weekend I can get together with some friends..."

"Sounds good."

Kai-Stern jumped, sending his pencil shooting through a sheet of loose leaf paper and cutting one section of particularly illegible notes in half.

"Tetheus!" he turned around, pouting at the other man, "You messed up my notes!"

Tetheus cast a casual glance at the paper, then shrugged.

"Looks like it was already messed up, if you ask me."

Kai-Stern pouted more, then gave in, standing and walking to the fridge.

"You hungry?"

"Famished. What's for dinner?"

"Um," there were some slight crashes as the blonde rooted in the refrigerator for edibles.

"Not much. You want leftover Chinese take-out?"

Tetheus dumped his armful of grade-school math text books on the counter next to the schoolbooks of his roommate and nodded in the affirmative.

"Right. Warmed up Orange Chicken and Mushroom Beef it is, then," Kai-Stern said, reemerging with two slightly soggy white boxes. He dropped to his knees, placing them both in the small microwave the kitchen housed, and then stood back up, searching through his pages of notes.

"You got a call a few minutes ago. Some girl; wanted to refer her brother. Name was Sheela or Cecilia or something like that."

He ignored the eyebrow raised in amusement by the other man, and lifted up a piece of folder paper triumphantly.

"Found it! Her name was," he squinted at his handwriting, "Cesia, and the kid's name is Zoma. He's a sophomore and needs help with his homework, so she wanted to know if you could tutor him."

He handed the paper over to the other for his inspection, then asked the question that had been forming in his mind since the call.

"Hey, is it even legal for her to hire a tutor for him? I don't think she's his legal guardian, and I'm pretty sure she isn't eighteen or whatever legal age, either."

Tetheus looked at his friend over the top of the paper.

"How would I know? You're the one studying law."

Kai-Stern sweatdropped.

"Ok. But are you going to take him?"

The other shrugged.

"If she'll pay, yeah."

"Isn't that unethical?"

Tetheus sent his friend the same look over the sheet of paper.

"Kai-Stern. You're the one studying politics."

"Oh," Kai-Stern sweatdropped again, "right."

:n:

Zoma laughed, brushing his dark bangs out of his face.

"Cheese popcorn?!"(1)

He placed a hand on the doorknob to the front door of his house.

"Ok, I'll see you at school tomorrow!"

Twin calls of goodbye were shouted at him as he walked into the building, shutting the door behid him.

It h ad already started to get dark, and he flipped on the lights as he wandered down the hallway to his room.

The door was closed, but he could see light soaking out from inside, and, as he drew nearer, could hear his sister's voice, and the voice of a stranger, a man.

Suspicions aroused, Zoma cautiously creaked the door open, sticking his head in, and taking a look around.

"Zoma!" his sister greeted him cheerily, beckoning for him to join them in his room, "Come on in!"

Giving her a cautious look, the younger boy entered, taking a seat on his bed next to his sister and the unknown man.

"Zoma, this is Tetheus," Cesia said, leaning back to allow the college student to hold out his hand to her brother.

"Um. Hi," he said, awkwardly taking the offered hand and giving it a quick shake, "Nice to meet you?"

Tetheus nodded his head solemnly, and Cesia spoke up once more.

"Tetheus has agreed to be your tutor!"(2)

The color quickly drained from the sophomore's face and he whipped his head around to stare at his sister.

"What?!"

"He's agreed to help you with your homework every Friday, from four until six-thirty," she continued, "Starting next week. He'll be coming over here for those two and a half hours every week, and if you need additional help, we have his cell number so that you can call him."

"But-- I-- I'm fine, really!" Zoma stuttered, completely caught off guard, "I don't need help! I'm ok!"

"Oh, really?" Cesia's dark eyes narrowed, "And what, exactly, was your last report card?"

As Zoma shifted uncomfortably under his elder sister's gaze, Tetheus cleared his throat.

"From what Cesia has told me, you appear to be a very intelligent young man," he smiled to himself as Zoma looked up, startled, "As far as we can tell, you just aren't pushing yourself or trying as hard as your could in your classes. It's not a big problem, but one that we still need to fix. Are you willing to commit yourself to this?"

The younger boy seemed frozen to the spot, and grasped desperately for an intelligent response.

"Uh, um, y-yeah, ok. Sure, that sounds good. Ok."

He tore his eyes away from the piercing stare of the older man.

"But, um," his gaze flicked up to meet his sister's.

"Could you, um, get out?"

Cesia blinked.

"Oh, that's right. Sorry about that, Zoma."

The two older people stood, exiting his room.

"So remember, next Friday."

He nodded, "Yeah, ok."

Cesia smiled at him in a motherly fashion, and quietly closed the door behind them.

Zoma was left, sitting on the mattress, a feeling of bewilderment growing within him, followed by a wave of quickly stifled resentment.

"What... The hell was that?!"

:n:

Pyore fumbled for the handle of her fridge, cradling a black cordless phone against her neck, and listening halfheartedly to the ranting on the other end.

"Sheesh, calm down, will you, Zoma? You're always overreacting."

She winced as his voice raised an octave into a nervous shriek, but shook it off, snatching up an already opened soda, and closing the door.

"Hey. Hey!" she shook her head, giggling to herself at her friend's antics, "Chill out, Zoma! It's not that bad, just tutoring."

As he made his response, something that somehow managed to use the words "social life" and "Dick Cheney" in the same sentence, she walked silently out of the kitchen, her feet making no sound as she strolled across the carpeted hallway leading to her bedroom.

"I said, chill! Relax! I've had to take private lessons before. ...Ok, so not on all my classes, but I've had a math tutor!"

Lighthearted laughter rung throughout the small house.

"No, no shit. I did! In seventh grade."

The Asian girl giggled again, "No, I'm serious! I was failing it, so my parents got me a tutor!"

Pyore was now running on automatic, not paying much attention to where she was going.

"Yeah," she smiled, "I didn't think about that, either," her hand grabbed the door knob at the end of the hall.

The cool metal felt icy slick under her fingers as she twisted, opening the door, and taking a few steps inside.

"What? Zoma! That's not what I--" her voice caught in her suddenly dry throat, brown eyes opened wide.

Her friend's voice could be heard through the mouthpiece in the sudden eerie silence.

"Pyore? Hey! Pyore! What's wrong..."

"Oh... No..." the girl backed out of the room, hr voice breathy in her own ears.

"God. Oh, God."

The frantic voice by her head snapped her back down to current life.

"Zoma?" She forced herself to sound calm, "I'm sorry. I have to go. Talk to you later?"

Without waiting for a response she hung up the phone, dropping it to the ground from her shaking hands.

Then she carefully, artificially, knelt down, placing her drink upright next to the wall, before spinning around, and racing for the comforting sanctuary of her own room.

Her door slammed behind her, but the other door, the one that had been opened by a regretted mistake stayed ajar.

Inside was nothing out of the ordinary. A neatly made bed; a desk, still holding text books; a closet of tidily hung up clothing.

And, placed on a small white bed stand, a family photo. One containing a father, a mother, and not one, but two young girls.

:n:

(1) Cheese popcorn. Popcorn made out of cheese. Ideal for those who have braces! This was one of the things that I need to give credit to Kat for...

(2) ...And this is another one. Tetheus tutors Zoma. Brilliant idea. Almost lead to some incest, but not quite(Long story. You don't want to know...)!

Man... I got so confused about pairings and family relationships and after school activities and electives and shit that I finally just made up a chart for everyone. I plan to turn it into individual schedules. You know, like the ones they give to you at school. That way I can tell who's in what class at what time! ::happy::

Review, please?


	10. Classes and Schedules

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Knights, and I am not claiming to. The only thing I'm guilty of is of having an overactive imagination.

Warning: Minor swearing. Introduction of more characters. Oh, this takes place during a full school day, so there will be mentions of characters at one class, then appearing in another one a few paragraphs later. This might be confusing... Sorry about that. Consider every new paragraph a jump forward in time(usually by an hour), if that helps any.

A/N: This is the first chapter made while using schedules as reference! After this is posted, drop a line if you'd like to see the schedules that I currently have completed. ...And yes, Rune owns a truck. Do you know the rule of the truck? No? That's probably a good thing...:shifty eyes:

This chapter is basically a reminder that this IS a school fic. Because it's been a while since we've actually seen them at school... Haha, this should make up for it! Nice, long, totally pointless, traditional schoolfic chapter! Yeah! ...Okay, it isn't TOTALLY pointless... Just MOSTLY... nn; Hey, at least I updated:sweatdrop:

:n:

"You need a lift after school?"

"Nah," Thats grinned, "Not unless you plan to wait around for me. I won't be let free until at least five. Damn dictators."

Rune sighed.

"You know, Thats, maybe you should consider purchasing a watch. It seems like most of the time you are simply late for class, not actively disobeying."

His friend's smile slid into an easy smirk.

"Thanks, but no thanks. Besides," he opened the door of Rune's secondhand truck, letting himself out, "It's not that bad being in detention. You get used to it after a while."

Blue eyes rolled to the matching sky, as the driver of the vehicle watched the other teenager yank his backpack out the door after him.

"Whatever you say. I take no responsibility for your citizenship grade."

The brown-haired boy laughed lightly, slamming the door behind him.

"I'll remember that. I won't blame you when I can't get into my college of choice," he snickered, tossing his bag onto his back and heading across campus to one of the large white complexes.

"Okay, math test," he shook his head, as if to clear the dust off the section of his mind containing the notes from his class, "I studied. Kinda."

He stopped by a bench, dropping his bag onto it and retrieving a beat up textbook from it's depths.

"Right, time for last minute cramming. At least I've got a break first two periods," he paused in his tracks.

"Man, that's right. I don't have classes 'til nine-thirty. What'm I doing at school at seven in the morning? I've got a whole two and a half hours to blow! This bites!" he loudly complained, slamming the book shut.

"Well, screw that, then. I'm not studying for two and a half hours. Snack bar, here I come!"

Thats suddenly lurched forward, finding himself half-tacked from behind.

"Hey!"

Kitchel bounced up next to him, carrying no bag, but simply a pair of still-white gym shoes.

"Two hours? God, you suck."

"Yeah," he grinned, "Why, you got class?"

"Not next period, but at eight-thirty," the girl wrinkled her face briefly in an expression of disgust, "P.E.. Hate that class."

"Really?" Thats asked as he started walking again, "I don't mind it. No thinking required."

"Yeah, I suppose," she said, quickening her pace to catch up, "Where're you going?"

"Snack bar. Coming with?"

She shook her head.

"Nah, I gotta get back to the locker rooms. I need to change. I just went to get my shoes."

She glanced down at the objects in question, then back up at her classmate.

"Are we still supposed to work after school today?"

"I think so," Thats said, shifting the weight of his bag from shoulder to shoulder, "Until next Thursday, I believe."

"Crap," she swore, "Ok, I'll see you then. No, before that. I've got tech and history with you today."

Thats nodded, glancing up at the clear sky then down at her again.

"Right."

"See you later," Kitchel started to turn, then stopped.

"Oh! And good luck on your math test!"

He gave her a questioning look, then remembered the book he was still carrying in his arms.

"Yeah," he found himself almost laughing, "Thanks."

:n:

Dropping her bag on the floor, the young sophomore knelt beside it, searching frantically through it's dirty green folds. She shivered slightly in the air-conditioned environment, pulling out books, folders, and a hard plastic pencil case before retrieving the item she was looking for.

She shrugged the thin white jacket on over her slim frame, looking up abruptly as footsteps heralded the arrival of another person into the changingroom-turned-classroom.

"Oh," her large hazel eyes danced over the blonde figure in the doorway, eyebrows quirking up into the pretense of a smirk.

"It's you."

She stood, shoving the side of her body into his as she pushed past him, out into the tiled hallway.

"If you see Sabel, tell him I'm looking for him."

Sending the older teenager a last taunting look, she walked off, light brown hair bouncing slightly with her jaunty steps.

Rune sighed in an irritated fashion, his face settling into a slight scowl.

"Hello to you too, Lim Kaana."

:n:

"Okay, so because the area of a circle is pi times r squared," Pyore hurriedly explained, scribbling the simple formula on a piece of scratch paper, you just subtract that from the area of a rectangle."

She looked up from her notes into the face of her friend.

"Get it?"

Zoma's face was a blank.

"No?" she sweatdropped, "C'mon, Zoma, we learned this last year! Here," holding the paper up to the wall of the building they were standing next to, she repeated her explanation, going into more detail about the individual steps.

"Do you get it now?"

"Kind of..." the boy said, still confused looking.

"But what if it's a three-dimensional-"

He was cut off by the ringing of a distant school bell.

"Yikes!" Pyore jumped, "I'm supposed to be at P.E.."

She handed him the sheet of paper and pencil.

"And you're supposed to be taking your test," she smiled at him.

"Oh, well, I'm sure you'll get it. Just remember that basic formula, okay?"

He nodded hesitantly, and she gave him a quick hug.

"You'll do fine. Stop worrying."

The boy flushed slightly, looking at his feet.

"I'm not."

Pyore laughed.

"Whatever. I've gotta go. See you at Social Studies," she said with a wave of her hand as she dashed off.

Zoma swallowed nervously, staring desperately at the paper and taking to his heels as well.

"Idon'tgetitIdon'tgetitIdon'tgetitAaaaaaaaagh!"

He stopped that train of thought as he skid to a stop outside his classroom door.

"Okay," he allowed, "Maybe I am worrying."

:n:

"Hey."

Thats turned around, bowl of rice still in hand.

"Huh?"

He found himself facing a familiar looking girl, probably in his grade, with long black hair, currently tied back and out of her face.

"You're Rath's friend, right?"

He grinned.

"Well, I wouldn't call myself his 'friend', but, yeah. I guess I am."

Thats looked at her again, something nagging at the corners of his mind.

"Hey... You're Cesia, right? You're that girl he tackled, right?"

When she flushed slightly then nodded, he grinned.

"Man, I half thought he was lying. Doesn't seem like Rath to even touch a girl, much less run her over." He glanced at the bunch of loose-leaf papers and bottle of orange juice in her arms, and gestured to the seat across from him.

"You want to sit?"

She nodded and sat down, spreading the papers out in front of her.

Thats glanced casually at one of them, spinning his cheap plastic fork between his fingers.

"Math notes?" she nodded, and he questioned again, "You got a test today, or something?"

"Yeah," Cesia sighed, halfheartedly glaring at the messy pencil scribbles in front of her.

"Right after this."

"Which math are you in?" Thats questioned, trying to keep the conversation going.

"BCP," she admitted embarrassedly.

"Really?" he looked interested, "Rath in your class?"

Cesia made a face, still looking down at the writing.

"Yes, unfortunately. Why?"

"No reason," the boy shrugged, "He just never mentioned that you were in his class. I would've expected him to say something."

"Huh?" she looked up for the first time, confusion in her deep eyes.

"Why?"

Thats grinned.

"Never mind. I've got a test today, too. Want help reviewing?"

A grateful expression fastened itself upon her face.

"God, please."

As he flipped the text book that had been resting on the chair next to him to the start of a long and boring looking chapter and started to dig around in his backpack for a pencil and paper, she spoke again.

"So how do you know Rath?"

"Hm?" he lifted his head from beneath the table, "Oh. We met in Junior High. Apparently he went to the same elementary school as Rune, so they already knew each other. I just happened to transfer into the right school and met them." He grinned, finally retrieving his school supplies. "And now we go here. Simple enough. Why'd you ask?"

She gave a casual shrug.

"No reason. I don't have any friends still from Junior school, though. Well, not any close ones," she said, apparently branching out the topic of discussion.

"Really?" he asked, rather distractedly, as he bent under the table, beginning another search through his bag.

Cesia nodded.

"Yeah. I met Tintlett in Freshman year- She was in my Study Hall and Biology class, and she introduced me to Kitchel."

"What!"

There was a loud thwack as Thats tried to quickly jerk upwards and his head collided with the underside of the lunch table.

Pulling back and straightening up successfully, he stared at her with dawning comprehension.

"That's how I know you! It's not because Rath was talking about you! It's because you're Kitchel's friend! I've seen you waiting for her outside of Tech. before!"

She raised a slender black eyebrow.

"Um. Right. I'm there a lot. Why didn't you recognize me?"

Thats seemed at a loss for a proper response to that question.

"I'm too busy cleaning up after class...?"

Cesia raised her other eyebrow in an expression of mock surprise.

"Don't tell me you're too busy watching other girls to pay attention to me?"

The junior across from her gave her an incredulous look.

"The hell?" his mouth twitched up into a teasing smirk.

"Nah. It's because my friend would kill me if I so much as looked your way. I don't have a death wish, you know."

"You don't have a death wish?"

"That's right," he grinned.

"So you won't look at me for fear of inciting your friend's wrath. And yet you asked me over to your table for a private study session."

It was Cesia's turn to giggle at his trapped look.

"I... Shit."

:n:

Sabel stretched, shoulder length hair newly cut and dyed green waving in the slight breeze as he wandered up to the school's drama building.

"It's a good day to be a Senior."

He was in an annoyingly superior mood, had been, ever since the start of the year and his new school schedule.

Good grades in previous years and the taking of courses during the summer months had allowed him to drop all of his least favorite classes. Indeed, he had managed to make it so that he was hardly taking any courses at all.

"What is my schedule for today," he mused out loud in an irritating singsong voice, "Oh, right. Break, French One, Chorale, four hour break, Music History."

Green eyes glazed over slightly.

"A very good day to be a Senior."

"If you're done gloating," a young female voice started behind him.

Sabel spun around, green eyes falling on a shorter figure.

"Why, Lim. I thought you had class."

She glared at the upperclassman, crossing her thin arms over her slender frame, still covered by her jacket.

"Don't call me that. And yes, I do. I needed to find you. So I left."

He raised a slender teasing eyebrow, one that caused her to roll her annoyed hazel eyes.

"I told them I was going to get a drink of water."

Lim Kaana crossed over the space between them, coming to a stop a mere foot away, hands on hips. She glared.

"Sabel, I want it back," her eyes narrowed further, "Now."

He waved her off, face set in a casual smile, but took a step backwards nevertheless.

"Don't get your panties in a knot. I'll give it to you."

"When." It wasn't so much a question as an order.

"Tomorrow." Sabel drew a rough cross over his heart. "I swear by all that is holy and fishy. I would have brought it today, Lim," he ignored her tensing at the forbidden name, "But I didn't think I would see you. Poor Freshie... You still have to take all the main courses..."

Sabel grinned teasingly at the shorter girl, then turned around to leave.

"I'll give it to you tomorrow. Why you want it, I'll never know." He smirked at the younger, slightly fuming student. "Until then, Lim."

:n:

Shian scowled, dropping her backpack on the floor of the Orchestra room and collapsing in her assigned seat in the front row of the viola section.

"Who the hell wrote that test?" she exploded, opening her instument's case and slamming it's hinged cover on her bare legs. A rouge strand of electric blue hair fell into her eyes and she brushed it angrily out of her slightly flushed face.

"Don't ask me," Miyabi said, sitting to the left of her and opening her own case much more carefully than her friend.

"I think I failed."

"Oh, shut up," Shian irritably snapped, "You didn't fail. I'm the one who did bad. I didn't even finish the last page."

"Calm down, Shian," a third voice interjected, "You're always overreacting."

"You're not the one to speak, Hana-Kay," the blue haired Freshman replied, sending a withering look to her newly arrived friend.

Hanakusuku shook her head in an annoyed fashion, letting strands of wavy blonde hair brush against her fair skin.

"You're too high-strung."

"Me!" Shian looked insulted, "You're calling me high-strung? At least I don't freak out when I get nine points out of ten on a homework assignment, little miss perfect!"

"That's because you've never gotten higher than a seventy percent," Miyabi claimed, butting back into the conversation.

"Why you-"

"Oh, like you would know, Miyabi." Hanakusuku fixed her with a cold stare. "You've got the worst grades out of any of us."

"i'm getting a better orchestra grade than either of you!" the red head protested furiously.

"Then why are we both higher chairs than you?"

Miyabi stood, clenched fists mocking Shian's. She opened her mouth to speak, and then noticed both her friends were staring over her shoulder in something akin to shame.

"...Huh?"

She turned around, coming face to face with a curious looking upperclassman, his wide brown eyes hidden behind a mop of too-long black hair.

"Oh!" He looked embarrassed to have been caught eavesdropping.

"Sorry, didn't mean to overhear."

As one, the three Freshmen turned a deeper shade of red.

"Th-that's all right, Nohiro," Miyabi stuttered, feeling her face flush even further.

:n:

The clock on the wall ticked off the seconds till nine forty eight.

Zoma stretched his bare arms, crossing them over his desk and using them as a makeshift pillow for his head.

His teacher, a rather boring older Japanese man in a dull ivory shirt had started class off to it's traditional pointless lecture. This time, it was about plumbing systems, or the lack there of, in the middle ages.

As he turned around to write down some important dates on the chalkboard, Zoma heard the classroom door open, and Pyore slip quickly in, and hurry over to her unofficial seat to his right.

"Hey," she whispered, digging around in her bag for her class supplies.

"What's going on?"

"Not much," the boy replied in a whisper to match her own, "He's just started the lecture. Something about lavatories."

Pyore was unable to stifle a giggle, and quickly bit her lip to stop the forbidden sound from receiving unwanted attention.

"Did he collect homework already?"

Zoma shook his head mentally wondering, "What homework?", and then asked the obvious question.

"Why're you late?"

"Oh," Pyore shrugged as she finally managed to get all of her things organized, "I was talking to my math teacher about the lesson."

Zoma gave her an incredulous look.

"You stayed late in class... To talk about math problems..."

He shook his head, "Weird."

"Hey," Pyore put on a mock offended look, "Just because I actually like getting good grades in Trig..."

"That's another thing," Zoma laughed, "How in the world did you get into Trig! You're in tenth grade!"

Pyore beamed, pleased with the complement.

"I took math during the summer. Twice."

At her friend's skeptical look, she elaborated, "And, like I told you earlier, I've had tutoring. Besides, I like math."

"Yeah," Zoma said quieter this time as he realized the teacher was still giving a lesson and would be bound to notice them if they kept talking at a normal volume, "I guess math and science run in your family, huh?"

If he had been worried about their conversation becoming too loud, he shouldn't have been. With those words, his friend fell oddly silent, suddenly becoming absorbed in her text book.

As he was starting to wonder if he said something wrong, and if so, if he should apologize, the Asian girl spoke again, in words softer than any part of their previous chatter had been.

"Yeah." The hand that reached out to turn the unread page was shaking slightly. "Yeah, I guess."

:n:

"How'd your test go?"

"Not as bad as I expected," Cesia answered her friend as they both entered their english classroom, taking up their seats in the front.

"I got help this morning, otherwise I would have bombed it for sure."

Kitchel grinned distractedly as she searched her folder for the writing assignment due that day.

"That's good. You went to the teacher? I didn't know you could do that that close to the testing period."

"You can't." Cesia leaned over, tugging her friend's paper out from behind a sheet of notes. "I met up with Thats in the cafeteria. I didn't know he was in regular math."

"Huh, yeah? Me neither. No offense, but I assumed he was in BCP," she said, dropping her stuff onto the ground, and smoothing out the sheet of homework.

"Learn something new every day."

"Speaking of learning something new," Cesia tilted her head to one side, reading the other girl's paper, "'concentration' doesn't have a 's' in it."

"Oh. Whoops."

Scratching out her mistake, then belatedly looking around for a tube of White Out, Kitchel remembered something.

"Hey, right! So what's up with that guy?"

"Who, Rath?"

Seeing her friend nod, Cesia continued.

"You mean the total jerk of a guy who knocked me over, groped me, and then landed me in detention? Yes, I think we'll be announcing our engagement soon," she said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"It's not his fault... Try to see it from a guy's perspective."

Cesia raised an eyebrow.

"This coming from the girl who's stalking the so dubbed 'Hardware Store Guy'."

"Tetheus is a man, not a guy."

"...Right."

"Who calls him that, anyway?"

Speaking before thinking, Cesia automatically answered.

"Zoma."

"What!" Kitchel paused, then started giggling. "I can so see his face! The little twerp's so easy to freak out."

Cesia started pulling out her English paper. "That's not nice."

"Hey, you told him."

"True."

"Besides, I love your brother. He's so cute!" Kitchel enthused.

"Huh..." Cesia shook her head, "You and Tintlett sound so alike."

:n:

Thats sat on the steps of the school's theater, dully staring off into space as he waited for their teacher to arrive and let them in for Tech.

"Hey."

He looked up as a girl the same age walked up to him and looked around.

"We early, or something? Where is everyone else?"

He shrugged.

"Class was supposed to start a couple minutes ago. Maybe they're late."

Kitchel looked at him sarcastically. "All of them?"

Shrugging and apparently satisfied with that answer, she dropped down to sit next to him. She reached into her bag, sliding out a purple Spanish text book, and opened it on her lap.

"I have a test tomorrow. That sucks."

"Huh?" Thats temporarily stopped staring into space to turn his head and look curiously at her book.

"Spanish Three?"

She nodded, glaring lightly at the list of vocabulary.

"You're studying already?" he asked again.

"Spanish sucks crooked monkey fuc-" she was cut off by the opening of the building door behind them.

"Ikkle Juniors having problems in their widdle classes?" Sabel strolled out, taking a long sip of a fresh can of soda.

"Just as a tip, if you were wondering where your classmates are, try the library, they're doing research on that new production you've got two months to slap together. For their Spring Play, one would really think that the school would spring for better funding and planning." He grinned, laughing at his own joke and at the shocked look on their faces. "Get it? 'Spring'?"

"Crap."

Thats stood, unable to prevent sarcasm from dripping into his words.

"Thank you for the belated information, Sabel. I'm sure working the vending machine while we spent the last five minutes cutting class really prevented you from telling us this sooner."

He stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"Hmph. See if I help you out next time." He took another gulp of his drink, watching loftily as Kitchel stood as well, lazily holding her text book under her arm.

"Hurry, and you just may be able to catch up to them before you're noticed. I'm still on God-blessed break." Laughter increasing, he stepped backwards into the theater, slamming the doors behind him.

"Bloody Senior."

The boy shook his head.

"Just wait until next year, when I'll have all the cruise courses and he's got his ass placed back at the bottom of the ranks in community college."

:n:

Silk swore.

Her dirty blonde hair, held back in a loose ponytail, stretched to the floor as she tilted her chair back until she was leaning at a right angle from her desk. Her gray eyes, the same color as the lining of her team jacket, glinted dangerously.

Where was Nohiro?

Most of the class was already seated, some showing considerably more enthusiasm than the 17 year old. Physics was quite definitely not her favorite class. In fact, the one plus of taking it was that she had deliberately switched period times so as to be able to be in the same class as him.

One needed to be able to keep tabs on one's boyfriend at all times.

But now he was late, and it was making her anxious, even if she wouldn't admit it. This built off tension was coming off as extreme irritability, one of the many reasons she had a wide berth of empty desks around her.

As the minute hand hit the half hour mark, officially starting off the class, she turned to the door in time to see Nohiro push his way through.

He slid into a seat next to her.

"Hey, Silk!"

The lightening behind her eyes flashed, struck.

"Where were you?"

"Sorry." He looked sheepish, "I got held up after English. I was arranging for a conference with the teacher."

She relaxed minutely, some of the sharpness leaving her face.

"What for?"

Nohiro grinned nervously, starting to sweat.

"I'm failing?"

"What?" She hissed, well aware that class was now in session. "Nohiro! It's English! You need to pass!" A small part of her consciousness quietly remarked that she sounded like someone's uptight mother.

That small section was squelched.

"Hey! It's okay! I just had some problems with the material we were covering." Nohiro noted her glare. "I'll raise it to an A, promise?"

This was the way their relationship "worked". One of them, Nohiro, would do something, and the other, Silk, would react. Every time. And the reaction was not usually a pleasant one. Like the common comparison of a light switch, it was on again, off again.

Currently on, since last Wednesday, it was teetering on the edge of breaking.

Again.

Not that that would have been unusual. This was the circular dance they had been engaged in since late Junior High.

It had started with an overheard conversation, a shock, a kiss. A loosing of trust, and a damning sentence.

But no one ever inquired about it. After all, you would have to be insane to ask her, and Nohiro was unable to respond.

He never did know about Rune.

:n:

Zoma stood in line.

None of his close friends had this 1:30 break, so he was standing by himself, behind of a couple of chattering girls his age and behind another two in the upper grades.

All talking about boys. Or who-likes-whom. Or clothing.

He shivered with the estrogen.

Fingering the two dollars in his jacket pocket, Zoma bounced dully on the balls of his feet, craning his neck to see over the girl in front of him. He hated being little.

Stomach growling, the sophomore debated between a PBJ or a BLT, both of which he could afford with the remains of his lunch money.

"...So then I told him to rot in hell, basically. I mean, the jackass just knocks me to the ground and practically molests me. Then acts like it's all my fault? Huh. No way."

Zoma started slightly. The speaker was his sister.

Turning around slowly, he saw that it was indeed Cesia and one of her friends. They were apparently engaged in an animated discussion, and hadn't noticed who they were standing behind.

"...I mean, what did you expect me to do? He was straddling me, the pervert. With a damn woody!" Cesia exclaimed in disgust, still oblivious and facing away from her little brother.

Her little, highly disturbed brother.

Zoma quickly spun around to face front. That was definitely not something one wanted to hear from their sister.

"Thank god she didn't notice me." He muttered under his breath, focusing all his attention on the two females in front of him.

"...And, like, a tampon? She's got to be kidding me. That wasn't a tampon, that was a freaking stake."

He squeezed his eyes shut.

That sandwich had better be damn good.

:n:

Fingers tapped with the built up tension and excitement on the desk top.

"Little... Little more..."

A slightly insane giggle, and a drop of translucent blue liquid was added to the already foggy solution in the test tube.

The laughter rose in pitch, causing the few students who were situated nearby to move even further away.

"Almost there..."

Another drop, and a slight plume of smoke began to waft out of the glass container. It smelled vaguely like sulfur.

The insistent tapping grew, if possible, faster. It paused, then started softly drumming out the beat to one of the irritating 90's tunes that briefly made the charts, and that no one in their right mind still admits to liking. Or sometimes even recognizing.

The beaker containing the azure liquid was set down, and another one, this one filled with a deep blood red was picked up.

It's holder looked at it, shrugged, and dumped a good three tablespoons into the test tube.

There was a crackling fizz followed by a small explosion as the two liquids mixed with one another.

As the mini mushroom cloud of thick oily smoke that followed the bang dissipated, all eyes in the class room were on the Senior.

He brushed ash out of his wild hair, and sent a scarily disarming grin around the room.

Clearing his throat, he straightened up, face and clothing now slightly blackened.

The test tube was now filled with a an ominously clear liquid that seemed to shimmer in the dulled classroom light, and when he spoke, it was in a near hysterical giggle.

"I call it... Revival Water!"

Kharl loved Chemistry.

:n:

Characters Introduced:

Lim Kaana

Sabel

Hanakusuku

Nohiro(He was mentioned before...)

Silk(Same...)

Kharl(Who was actually supposed to make an appearance a couple chapters ago, but was edited out...)

:n:

Kat: Yummerz... I wanna see that too. Wait, wait...concentrates really hard THERE! I CAN SEE IT! ...Wow... :drools: Almost, but not quite, as good as Rath and Nadil. ...By a rather large almost, actually. No offense to them. RxN is just hot. Creepy, but hot.

Cairnsy: Yeah, I realized I had been neglecting them, and added in that bit. Yay! I'm not even too sure why I decided to put that pairing in here, but I'm glad someone appreciates it!

Capella: You know, ever since reading that review, I've started thinking about those things, too. o.O; I know, Pyore is so sweet. New favorite pairing! Zoma and Pyore! non Added plus for Pyore... She's very helpful during math and bio tests! Just good that you no longer hate Sabel, since he kinda stole the spotlight a lot in this chapter...

Lexzzz:confused: Oh...kay... Well, it sounds cool, anyway. D

HungryDemon:giggles: Great Minds Think Alike. Keep thinking, I'm sure you can tutor him in something. How to be a punk star, perhaps. n-n

Lisasa: Yes, an interesting experience, too. What's gonna happen? Um... Not entirely sure. :sweatdrop: Every time I think I've got it fully figured out, something new develops...

Shadowess: Shows your dad right. And, YES, Cheese Popcorn! Bwahahahaha... Haven't laughed like that in a while. o.O;

Peophin-chan: ...Neopets:sweatdrop: Never mind. Thanks! n-n Yeah, I updated! See?

Ellabel: o.o Wow. That's, um... A lot of names. Thank you! Zoma? Um... :tries to remember: Screw that. :goes back to check:giggles: Ah, yes. Poor Zoma. I feel kinda bad for him. Not as bad as I feel for Cesia once Kitchel finds out... :cracks up: And Pyore:absolutely LOVES Pyore: I've got it figured out. :nodnod: It ties back to the books. Kinda. :laughs: You tell Rath and Rune. It's okay. It still gets used. :whispers: Actually? It's better that they didn't use it. Even if they were being pricks. It still worked out -very- nicely. :slow grin forming on face:

:n:

I'm sooooo sorrrrrryyyy about the obscenely long wait in between updates:dies of shame:

Review... And while you're at it, ask me anything, ANYTHING, about the lives of ANY of the DK people in my little AU, here... :evil grin:

Want to know what language Thats is taking? I know.

Want to know who was hosting the first(and last) party Kuon Sheena went to? I know.

Want to know who Shian secretly likes? I know...

I know everything... 


	11. Copyrights and Gravestones

Disclaimer:yawns: I own nada... Nada... Including DK and LOTR. Summer's here, though! Can't be upset with summer!

Warnings: Swearing, oddness.

A/N: ...Yeah. Um... Sorry about the freakishly long wait. Again. :ashamed: I really did mean to get this out earlier, but... :hangs head:

:n:

"At least one solo for each of the playing/singing members in the band, at least three group songs, evidence of at least three pieces being worked on. Recommended minimum total of twelve songs, with no more than four being unfinished. Players' solos must be finished by the date of the audition. No more than one piece may be a remake of an already performed song.'"

"What?" Rath snatched the creased notice from the drummer's hand. "They've got to be kidding."

"Guess not," Rune sighed, tilting his face to the cement ceiling of his cramped cellar. "Looks like they're really serious about this."

"Well, we are too!" Rath crumpled up and tossed the paper back to his friend, "We just don't have all our shit together yet. That's all."

"We should have started working earlier. You realize we have nine days left before our audition, Rath. Nine!" The blonde boy shook his head. "There's no way we're going to be ready in time."

Rath started tapping his foot on the cold ground, nervous energy getting the better of him. "We'll make it," he insisted, "We just need to think about this. How many pieces do we need?"

"Twelve. Up to four can be unfinished."

"And how many do we have?"

"Counting that tune Thats scribbled down? Two. None of them finished."

"Damn."

The junior started pacing, back and forth across the dimmed room. His boots clanked dully on the hard ground underfoot.

"So we need six more."

"In nine days," Rune added in hopelessly.

A grim light of determination began to flicker in Rath's eyes, and he stopped in his tracks, turning to face the other boy.

"We just need to pace ourselves. Let's start over. That one, what did we call it?"

"Hassle," Rune offered the rough draft's title, "But it's only a rough draft of the lyrics, and we still need to finish setting music to it."

He brushed him off.

"We'll finish in time. So there's that and Thats' thing--"

"I was thinking of having him make it into his solo."

"I remember. That's two out of twelve, so ten. And then we can play some older song and make it nine. And subtract the four we can have unfinished..."

"Rath!" Rune sent him an exasperated glance, "That still makes it a little over a song every two days! Plus music and practice... We're just out of time!"

He was taken completely by surprise when his friend spun around, landing a resounding kick to the table pushed up against the side of the basement.

"No we're not!" Rath's voice was tight with barely withheld emotion, the words wavering like a taunt chord. There was a clear black scuff mark and slight splintering on the table's wooden leg, it's dust coating rising and falling in a small cloud to the dirty floor.

The air was very still, unexpectedly and unexplainably tense.

Rath turned back, and his friend forced himself not to flinch away.

His dark eyes were unnaturally calm. Forced.

"No," he spoke again in an evenly controlled voice, "No, we're not."

:n:

Thats hummed a bar under his breath absentmindedly. He was alone in his half of the cafeteria, Kitchel having decided that the work would be done faster if they split up. The reasoning behind this logic was that, even though they had to stay for a set period of time, if they were able to get the large room looking fairly clean, there was a chance they'd be able to slack off and lounge around for the remaining hour or so.

Leaning on the low table, he ran the notes through his head once again. The tune was catchy, almost irritatingly so, especially when one did not have any lyrics to fit them.

"That's Rune's gig," he muttered to himself, "Not mine."

What irritated him more was that his friend felt that, since this had been dubbed His Solo, he was going to have to be the one to come up with the accursed lyrics. Somehow it would end up being cheat otherwise-- Thats didn't fully understand the other's logic.

Damn Rune and his morals.

Straightening up once more, he resumed wiping down the table. Thats gave a wry smile. The piece of ragged cloth was moving to the unheard beat.

:n:

Fingers drummed impatiently on a flimsy countertop.

Kai-Stern's pale eyes traveled over the small pile of papers and text books, his right hand snaking out to catch a pen before it toppled onto the floor.

A rather weathered and beaten phone was cradled in his left hand, the ringing on the other end filtering into the messy room.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon... Pick up..."

He sighed as a slightly mechanical voice crackled to life, heralding the start of Ruwalk's lengthy answering machine message.

He waited as it wove its rambling way to the end, listened for the small 'beep', and finally spoke.

"Hey, Ruwalk! It's me, Kai-Stern. Listen, we were wondering--" he caught himself and gave a small chuckle. "Well, I was wondering- I don't suppose Tetheus really cares- if we could get together sometime. You know, everyone. Just out to a bar, or something. This Saturday good for you? Take pity on us starving college students and call us back!"

As he dropped the phone into its receiver, he felt the entrance of his roommate, and gave a small grin at the other's almost teasing tone.

"'Starving college students'?" Tetheus shook his head, not fully able to keep a straight face. "Judging by the state of the leftovers in the refrigerator, I'm unable to believe you."

Kai-Stern glanced at the fridge in question. "It's true. There may be a lot of them, but would you really want to eat anything in there? I think the dorm's power died again today."

This statement was backed up by the faint and slightly rancid odor just barely noticeable under the scent of unwashed laundry(Kai-Stern), vaguely mildewy books(Kai-Stern), and sawdust(Tetheus).

"Fun day at the hardware store?" The too-fair man asked, shoving the phone away to the other side of the counter.

"Very." Even in Tetheus' traditional monotone, there was a distinct slice of sarcasm, served warm with a plate of irritation.

"Since you called in 'sick', I worked both your register and my aisles, thus debunking great minds across the world and proving that a person can be in two places at once."

Kai-Stern winced.

"Sorry. Lykouleon phoned. Wanted to talk."

"Oh?" Tetheus was not able to keep the curiosity out of his voice. It was a rare event that their old friend called, especially not over something that sounded as serious as his roommate implied.

"Yeah. He's having... Trouble getting through to that kid living with him and Rase'. They're just not seeing eye-to-eye, and it's starting to get out of hand."

Tetheus highly doubted it was getting just 'out of hand'.

"Is that the foster boy they took in?"

He nodded, "He's a good kid. Just upset about all the changes he's already gone through, having problems at school, and beating himself up about not 'fitting in'." Kai-Stern rolled his tawny eyes. "Don't know why Lykouleon wanted to talk to me."

The other man gave the shadow of a shrug, still standing in the doorway to the kitchen-turned-study. "You can relate to him," he said simply.

"Nah," Kai-Stern gave a bright grin, "I may be immature, but I'm not that filled with self-loathing."

This time Tetheus graced the room with an actual raise and dip of the shoulders, then stepped past his friend to investigate the offputtingly-warm refrigerator and it's questionable contents.

"Did you buy anything for dinner?"

:n:

Cesia was out.

Zoma loved it when this happened, loved the fleeting freedom of having the small house to himself, even loved the way that as the hours ticked by he would grow bored and sometimes lonely with no one to talk to. So when his sister had told him she would be spending some time at her friend's house after school, he had been elated.

And he was still pleased about it, he noted to himself, shifting the metal spoon in his mouth as he changed the television channel. Letting the remote slide from his grasp, he leaned back, propping himself up on the floor, his still closed school bag seated next to him.

It was just that, without the chiding and prodding of his older sister and closest family member, his musings would become more audible. And while at times this could be no big deal, it could get irritating.

Like the little voice in the back of his conscious that droned out the monotonous ramble of the salesman on t.v., urging his thoughts to his friends. More specifically, Pyore. The girl had been acting... Oddly the past few days. If this was taking place in some story or show, Zoma would go so far as to label her "out of character". But as it was, that wasn't really an option, and he shook his head, his eyes loosing their glazed over sheen as they unfocused from the television screen.

This was getting annoying.

And he sighed, standing up and resignedly wandering into his room, leaving the t.v. blaring behind him. Maybe he'd find something in there.

:n:

"Thats. Thats. Thats!"

He jerked his gaze up as Kitchel slammed her closed fists down on the table he was working on, causing it to buck and shake slightly.

Thats pulled his headphones down to hang loosely around his neck.

"What?"

She rolled her eyes irritably, "We're done. As in, we can leave."

"Oh. Right," he said, dropping the tray and rag where he stood, glancing around the building for his backpack.

"The hell were you listening to it so loud, anyway?" Kitchel asked, scooping up her own school supplies, "It's not like you had to drown out any background noise."

Thats glanced at her, then shrugged, pulling on his bag.

"I like it loud."

Yeah. And because there's this damn unwritten whatever that keeps going around and around in my head. With an annoyingly catchy beat, and... Yes, there it is again.

He rolled his eyes to the clear sky as they stepped out of the cafeteria.

She gave him a bemused glance.

"What?"

"Huh?" He met her gaze, startled. "Song stuck in my head."

"What's the title?" Kitchel asked, casually trying to keep the conversation going as they headed back towards the main school buildings for their all-too-frequent detention.

"Don't know," he shrugged. "You wouldn't know the lyrics, anyway."

The girl grinned teasingly. "That's not fair. I know lots of songs. Why wouldn't I know this one?"

Thats smirked back, "Trust me: This is a real unknown."

:n:

Zoma panned through a small gray book, eyes darting over the pictures pressed up behind the clear plastic pages. He was lounging against the foot of his bed, having found the old photo album buried somewhere beneath his extra game controller, spare PE uniform, and ancient clay pot that he had made as an art project in elementary school.

He smiled at the memories struck up at the wrinkled photograph of his small group of friends, dressed up for a past halloween.

Taking a closer look, Zoma pinned the date down to two years ago, judging by their costumes and heights(or, really, lack thereof).

He laughed to the empty room, tapping his foot against his poster-covered bookshelf.

That had been the year they had all gone as characters from the Fellowship of the Ring, with many hilarious outcomes. Ringleys had taken first choice, and the small boy was dressed up as the great elven warrior, Legolas. Riima had convinced the others to let her go as Aragorn, despite the fact that she could barely lift both her sword and a bag filled to the brim with candy. He himself was Samwise, bent double in the photograph under the weight of his towering bag, filled with pots and pans, a change of clothes, rope, and a not-so-meager supply of food in his attempt to be authentic(in place of lembas, however, the four had agreed that he was to carry cinnamon poptarts). In the center of the picture stood Pyore, her shoulder-length black hair pulled back from her face, and a polished "ring of power" strung on a chain about her neck, glistening against her dulled brown tunic. She was laughing as the picture had been taken, a smudge of melted chocolate on the side of her face.

Zoma paused, faintly confused.

Hadn't there been a fifth member of their fellowship?

If he remembered correctly, they had convinced another to join them, playing the part of Arwen under Riima's insistence that she(through Aragorn) needed a fiancee.

His fingers drummed on the picture distractedly as he willed his mind to think back that far.

Arwen... White dress...

It hit him suddenly and there was a flash of realization in his dark eyes as he jumped to his feet, letting the picture album slide to the messy floor.

Of course!

Grabbing his jacket off his doorknob, Zoma quickly fled the house, nearly sprinting down the chilly street.

:n:

Rath was sitting cross-legged on the dusty ground, purposefully drumming an unsharpened pencil on the cement next to him. He ran through the rhythm, then paused, a look of concentration scrawled on his fair features, and gave a curt nod.

"That might work." He glanced up. "What do you think, Rune?"

The other boy jerked his head up from where he had been studying a physics text book, a sheepish flush beginning to creep up on him.

"...Could you repeat that?"

Rath scowled, then did as requested, adding in a scornful comment.

"What do you think you're doing? I thought you said we needed to work on this?"

"Well, yes," Rune admitted, carefully placing his school work off to one side and closing the text book, "But I have a physics test tomorrow, and no breaks before it. I want a good grade in that class."

"You're already pulling an A," the other complained, shaking messy black bangs out of his face, "You can afford to bomb a quiz."

Rune gave his companion an affronted stare.

"I would like to keep my GPA as is, thank you."

He relented, however, sighing.

"Oh, all right. I can always review later tonight. Now," he managed a small smile, "I think that sounded fine. But could you repeat the end?"

Rath did so, at a slower tempo this time.

"And that's just percussion, correct? Do you have anything figured out for you or Thats?"

"Kind of? For me, at least. I don't want to write his part, too," the other junior complained.

Rune pondered this for a moment.

"He should be finished cleaning by now. He can work on it during detention. Too bad we can't contact him..."

Rath's eyes lit up with a mischievous glint.

"He has a cell."

The black haired boy made a dive for Rune's backpack, snatching a small silver cell phone from one of the open pockets and quickly dialed a familiar number.

"Rath!" Rune was sitting stiffly, obviously torn between lunging for his phone or letting the other contact their friend. "Is he allowed to receive calls?"

Rath motioned for him to be silent, laughing silently to himself as he heard the other line start to ring.

:n:

"Whoa!" Thats jerked as the cell phone in his pocket suddenly went off, vibrating harshly and emitting a tinny sequence of notes, sounding faintly like the theme from "Mission Impossible".

Several heads turned to stare at him, bearing expressions of amusement, annoyance, or simple confusion.

Turning slightly red, he snatched it out of his pocket, glanced at the registered number, and hurriedly picked up.

"...Hello?"

"Thats!"

The falsly-cheerful voice was audible, even several rows over, and the junior made a mental note to do something about the volume.

"What is it?" he muttered softly, trying to ignore the stifled sniggers and the bemused look being given to him by the supervisor.

"Rune and I were wondering if you--"

"Yeah, the song, I know," he cut Rath off, hoping to end the conversation sooner and with less embarrassment on his part. "I'm working on it, okay?"

"Actually," Rath continued, and Thats could swear he was doing his best to make himself heard in the small classroom, "I thought you should work on the base part for 'Hassle'."

About to answer, Thats could hear a scuffle in the background and the slightly more muffled voice of Rune protest that Thats couldn't work on it, because he couldn't know what Rath had just worked out and therefore wouldn't be able to fit his part in with the others.

"Oh, right," Rath pondered this for a moment before cheerfully explaining that he could just show the other over the phone what it was supposed to sound like.

There was the sound of heavy equipment being moved and the faint buzz of speakers being plugged in and turned on, and right when Thats was getting ready to hang up the phone and suffer the consequences at the hands of his two irate companions later that afternoon, someone spoke up.

"Excuse me. But use of cell phones is not permitted during detention."

He looked up, startled, into the face of Lykouleon, the young teacher supervising the class. The man was obviously trying to appear stern, but was having a hard time not breaking down into laughter.

Lykouleon held out his hand, into which a grateful Thats dropped the small device, watching as it was turned off a second after the first jarring strands of music burst into the air.

There were several giggles from the other students.

The tanned junior sweatdropped, giving a laughing grin and pulling out a sheet of paper, notes scrawled down the lines and margins.

Smoothing out the crumpled mess, he rolled his eyes.

Might as well get something done so he wouldn't be completely chewed out after school.

:n:

"This one's cute!"

Cesia held the light pink material up to her chest, repressing an automatic reaction to gag valiantly.

"...It doesn't look that good on me," she offered instead, handing it back to her friend who likewise stuck it back on the shelf.

"Besides, it's too expensive. I can't afford that!"

"I can lend you money," Tintlett offered, offhandedly searching through a pile of similarly colored shirts.

Cesia shook her head, dark hair whipping about her.

"No, that's okay. Let's just try a different place, okay?"

"Fine," the blonde girl took her hand, tugging her from the air-conditioned store, "Where do you want to try next?"

She shrugged, thinking for a moment.

"That small place across the mall?"

Tintlett nodded, light eyes narrowing for a second as she attempted to recall its exact location. "That sounds good. They have nice tops there. Very... Black." She giggled.

Cesia laughed as well, the sound crisp in the chatter around them.

"Exactly. I've got a gift certificate for there, anyway."

This agreed upon, the two teenaged girls set off, passing by multiple smaller clothing stores, drink booths, and an ice cream stand.

"Cesia?" Tintlett broke the comfortable silence, "When was it that you needed the clothes for?"

"Next Saturday."

Tintlett nodded, fleetingly remembering a mention of a music contest during that week.

"Is that the one for beginning bands? But you don't have anyone else to perform with you. Unless you intend to play all the instruments yourself," she teased gently.

Cesia grinned at the mental image.

"No, I'm not participating in that one. There's a separate competition for vocalists that's run by the same agency that takes place at about the same time."

"I see," she nodded once more. "Saturday, right? What time is it?"

"Nine in the morning," the junior grimaced, "And it's way across town, which means I have to get up a few minutes before I'd normally be waking for school. Especially since I want to make sure I get there a little early, just in case."

There was a few seconds calm silence, broken only by the surrounding buzz and their footsteps on the hard ground.

"Do you think it would be all right if I joined you?"

Cesia looked at her friend, startled.

"Were you thinking of trying out, too? Good luck."

"No," Tintlett objected, slightly flustered, "I was thinking of writing an article for the school newspaper for their music and entertainment section, and this seems like a good opportunity to get some research done," she explained.

"Oh," Cesia nodded, "That's fine. Do you want me to pick you up?"

"I live close. I can just walk a block to your place. That way I'll be sure you won't oversleep and miss your audition," she joked.

"Hey," Cesia laughed, tugging her friend into the designated store, "You know I'm a very responsible person."

"I know." Tintlett's voice was calm, her eyes momentarily serious. Then she giggled, snatching a tight corset top off its hanger.

"And a person with a fetish for leather! Try this on. If it fits, I'm going to make you buy it, even if you do need a loan. This is going to be your big debut, and you need to look great."

She shoved it into Cesia's hands turning around to stare at the variety of clothing once again.

"Now, on to other things. Which mini do you prefer?"

:n:

"That sound right?"

Rath nodded, frowning slightly in concentration.

"Keep going."

Rune absentmindedly brushed a strand of golden blonde hair out of his blue eyes, repeating the rhythm and continuing for a few seconds before he paused.

"What time is it?"

Rath shrugged.

"No frigging clue. Why?"

"I think I just heard the door. Thats must be here. Come on," he stood, stepping delicately out from behind the drum set newly shoved into the corner of the basement. "Bring the lyrics and notes. We can show them to him while we take a break."

As the two teenagers quickly made their way out to the front door, they were startled to see their friend standing casually in the kitchen, getting himself a soda from the fridge.

"...Thats?"

"Hmm?" He turned around, taking a long drink. "Hey. I let myself in."

Rune blinked. He never gave the other boy a spare key to his house...

Shaking off his confusion, he led Rath into the room, watching as the other boy shoved several sheets of paper into Thats' hands.

"What is this?"

"Notes," Rath said pointedly. "Look at them."

Nodding distractedly, the junior skimmed the top page, then glanced over the rest. About to hand them back to his friends, he paused suddenly, a look of concentration spreading over his face.

"Wait a second..."

Thats read through the scribbled on papers again, more carefully this time.

He looked up and spoke bluntly.

"You can't use this."

"What?" Rune jerked forward, snatching the material from his friend.

"Why not?"

Thats took another gulp, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Copyrighted."

Rath stared at him as if he had just said he wanted to get a sex change or marry Rune.

"The hell are you talking about?"

"Okay," he conceded, "Not quite. But close enough. The drum section you got down here, at least, is too close to the percussion from 'Real World'. These lyrics, too," he took them from Rune, skimming through them once again. "They're really similar."

Rath swore, his fist slamming into the countertop.

"What are we going to do now? That was our most complete song."

Thats shrugged, but Rune slowly spoke up.

"Wait... Rath, that lead part you had planned out... That's different, right? We can use that. I can get new lyrics for it. And Thats will proofread them before we get this far along, this time."

Watching as their bass downed the rest of his soda and nodded, Rath hesitantly bobbed his head as well.

"That might..." his voice harded into seriousness suddenly. "We need to get to work. This is putting us at a greater disadvantage, and the deadline is coming up fast."

Rune gave a slight smile, taking a step towards the hall.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's get back to work."

:n:

Dried leaves crunched under Zoma's shoes, the grass below them almost sacrosanct in its vibrancy. He paused, shooting a pleading glance to the sky, a desperate, "why me...?" look, one that he almost immediately regretted. His eyes narrowed, burning two holes in the ground in his sudden shame.

Taking another step forward, he shivered slightly, passing by the first slab of granite: gray as the sleeting sky, gray as the wave-churned sea, gray as the fog of age... Gray as the thin jacket pulled over the shoulders of the small figure kneeling in front of a tombstone several rows over.

His mouth was dry with nerves and he noticed yet again how green the grass underfoot was.

Treading carefully, he made his way towards her, being careful not to step on any of the graves and trying his best to walk quietly.

The air was reverent.

The briefest of phantasmic touches strayed over his spine, reminding him of the heavy presence of a church or other place of worship.

Zoma sucked in a nervous breath.

"Pyore?"

She gave no indication that she had heard him, and so he walked tentatively closer.

"...Pyore?"

He paused, standing next to her, a chill breeze lazily blowing by, whispering in the branches of the slender trees that surrounded the cemetery.

The thought came to him that if it wasn't for the rows of icy markers, it might be a nice scene. A place he would consider coming to on a picnic or just to stare at the clouds.

He was startled out of his semi-trance by the girl kneeling next to him shifting position, plush grass below them both rustling slightly.

Zoma glanced down at her.

"Um..." he fumbled his words, a light blush climbing to his face as he finally spoke the clichéd phrase: "Are you okay?"

She looked up at him for the first time, and he was startled to notice that her eyes were clear: there was no sign that she had been crying recently.

Giving a short, soul-drenching sigh she nodded slowly, climbing stiffly to her feet.

"Yes. I am," she smiled.

It was wane, but it was real.

"You, uh, you wanna talk about it?" Zoma could feel himself turning redder as he pushed out the awkward words.

He was rewarded with a giggle and the soft strengthening of her smile.

"No. I'll be fine. I was just," she hesitated, and he could see her falter for a moment before speaking again.

"Just remembering."

He gave a short nod, just enough to acknowledge her words, trying to fight the guilt he felt at his surge of relief that she had not expressed a wish to discuss what had been bothering her.

It wasn't right to feel that way.

Guilty, he meant, but also relieved.

That wasn't...

Zoma suddenly snapped back to the real world once again at Pyore's sudden movement. She reached to the sky, her jacket slipping down her arms as she stretched out the stiffened muscles. Stamping her feet inside their boots from the cold that was starting to settle as evening fell upon them, Pyore turned around, facing the entrance to the cemetery.

"C'mon," she grinned, seeming more of her old self than before, "It's getting late, Zoma. Did you come looking for me?" She teased.

"N-no!" He stammered, following after as she made her way to the road and home.

"I just saw you!"

Pyore laughed, the sound refreshingly alive.

"Whatever, Zoma."

She gave him a playful shove, still giggling as they left the cemetery, but made no protest as his hand slipped into hers.

Kuon Sheena

1986-2004

Her early departure left behind

A loving father, mother,

And sister.

She will always be in our hearts.

Brianna: Yes. Yes, you did quote the commercial. And... :glomps: You! You are the bestower of the 500th review I've ever recieved. :shock: ...Mind, this account is a few years old now, and I tend to update a lot... :shifty eyes: Anyway, I'll give you a present. Sometime.

Kat:gestures: Rath's in BCP, that's why. :nods: And I agree with you on the college thing. By a lot. ...And don't break the beautiful, beautiful illusion about summer school and classes... :pretends not to have heard: ...I'm supposed to be working on those pictures. :sweatdrop: I am working on them! I just... Took a break to finish this? n-n; Um... Yeah. So is there any particular order you want them in...? VOLES. :random hyper spaz:

Peophin-chan: Of course I prefer one "A"! Just soooo much cooler that way. :wink: ...Actually, it's because the first time I ever heard of him was in a fanfic by... She used to be called AngelCesia. Then she changed her name, and I can't spell it, so I won't even try. I don't want to mangle it. XD But it was brilliantly funny, and she mentioned Sabel in there. And that's how she spelled it. And that's how I got in the habit of spelling it.

Minty Fresh So-- Damnit, Ginsing.: One, correct! Two, correct! Three:loud buzzer noise: Hahaha. I win. I wiiiin.

Capella:shrugs: I showed you Sabel's schedule. He practically IS doing that, anyway. Laam's majoring in some sort of humanities(:had tuned him out when he started rambling:), Gil's starting his freshman year and has changed his mind about this at least five times. While I was trying to write this. :sweatdrop: So, I concede the point. I don't know everything about this AU. XD

Charna:nodnod: This is the one fic I where I'll actually attempt to write longer chapters...

Hououza:blinks: Read it ALL! Wow... Um... Bordom getting to you? ...Not that I'm complaining, mind. One, probably not. Two, yes. Poor Zoma. :huggles:

Ellabel:gracious accepts soup: Thank you! You are the bestower of food. n-n And I hope you get well soon :O ...Er. Are well by now. XD ...Wow, you reviewed twice. o-o Uh... Here's to you and your prodding:hands over the pocky:

:n:

Grawr. I really want to majorly edit a lot of the eariler chapters, but... That would feel a bit like cheating. V-V I mean, I did write it. And I did like it enough at the moment to post it... I just hate it now. :grawr, eats chapters: I actually might rehaul their asses, except there's so many little details that I still need from there that I'd probably forget ... I'm trying to fix what I can, however, as you might have noticed in this chapter. Basically, I've decided not to take the cheat way out and use songs that have already been written. Which means I had to change almost all of the work they got done already. :sweatdrop: They hate me for that, but...

And as of this chapter, this fic has passed the 100-page-mark, as well. :just posted another one with that record: I'm so proud of it. :glomps fic and gives it candy:

:n:

:does a little review boogy:


	12. Rough Drafts and Procrastination

Disclaimer: Oh NOES! I don't own Dragon Knights:gasp: Nor do I own Pop Tarts or the song "I Hate Everything About You" by Three Days Grace/Evanescence.

Warnings: Minor swearing, teenagers.

:n:

Rune was awake before his alarm went off, before anyone came to pound on his door, and before anyone else in his too-quiet house had ventured out of their rooms.

Apart from him, that was.

He was in the bathroom, hair still wet and dripping from the shower, small puddles of water forming beneath his form as he leaned on the counter, looking dazedly at his reflection.

A dream had woken him an hour before he needed to be awake, and he had known that he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep.

And yet he was torn between what to do.

It hadn't been, as Rune knew his friends would tease him of having, a sexual dream. Nor had it been prophetic.

Merely a blurred memory, one that he had nearly forgotten about. Well, not entirely. While he didn't remember the surrounding events clearly, the clip itself was clear as his own reflection looking back at him.

And even now as he closed his eyes, white flowers with a tinge of violet wavered behind his vision, high childish laughter echoing in the distance.

Blue eyes faintly glazed over, Rune was lost in thought, running over what to wear, what to do... What to say.

Today was the day, Rune vowed to himself, he was going to force himself to act. He wasn't going to pussyfoot around this any longer. It was tearing at him, had been tearing at him for quite some time now. For longer than he cared to remember, it had been what he had wanted most...

And what he was now somehow nervous about acting towards.

Today was the day...

:n:

Thats rolled over, lazily turning off the insistent beeping of his alarm.

If one did not have a first period class and one was able to get to school later, 6:00 in the morning was far too early for one to be awake.

On the other hand... What day was it? The nagging thought penetrated the sleepy haze surrounding his mind.

It was...

Monday? No. Thankfully.

...Thursday? No...

The answer suddenly registered in his mind with stunning clarity.

Friday!

...Which meant that they had exactly one week and a day before the audition.

The shock of that realization caused Thats to sit straight up in his unmade bed, hair sticking out at an odd angle and green eyes wide.

Shit...

He sighed, getting up and snatching up the sheet of notebook paper from next to his school bag. He glanced at the rough music notes scribbled down and rewritten several times on it, then yanked on a shirt, casting around the room for a pair of pants.

This was so annoying, he reflected as he tugged on a fresh pair over his boxers, He had wanted to sleep in... Not that he would have had an easy time with that.

Thats rolled his eyes as a thunk on the hallway outside his room alerted him to his younger brother tripping over his backpack and slamming into the wall.

"Oy, Ringleys!" Thats shouted through the still-closed door, "You okay?"

There was a muffled yes, and the older boy turned his attention back to the task at hand.

The music was simple enough. And if, as Rune had already decided, this was to be his solo, he wouldn't need to worry about writing out parts for the other two. At most, Thats could just get them something simple and barely noticeable... He really wasn't too sure what exactly his friend had meant by "solo".

"Maybe I should actually read the flyer," he muttered to himself, absentmindedly trying to flatten down the hair on the back of his head.

The attempt was futile, and Thats soon gave it up. He had plenty of time before he had to be at school, and he could smell the lovely and appetizing scent of toasted Pop Tart...

His stomach growled plaintively, and he exited the room, deciding he would dedicate one morning before he left for college to teaching Ringleys how to cook a decent breakfast.

:n:

Metal locker door slamming behind him, Rath kicked on his beat up sneakers and tore out of the lockeroom. It wasn't so much that he was worried about being late, as that he actually enjoyed the physical activity.

It was something to do without having to think.

You could lose yourself in it.

Quickly exiting into the startlingly bright early morning sunlight, he blinked two or three times in quick succession.

7:25 in the morning; six hours to pen down a rough draft for a song, complete with lyrics and a basic melody.

Rune had been the one to come up with the plan. They were each to have a solo ready to hand over to him by the time they had their last class of the day together. He would then glance over them, making sure the words more-or-less flowed, then hand his and Rath's drafts to Thats just as a basic copyright check.

Rath winced, slowing to a jog.

That had been a huge setback.

Fortunately, they had been able to get some work done. They now had music for two separate songs written down and run through a couple times. Both were, however, lacking words and were far from finished.

A bird flew overhead, casting a small shadow over the dark-haired boy.

He glanced up at it, carefully clearing his mind.

"Some pray for an angel...'

Rath blinked, slightly started at himself.

Where had that come from?

He shook his head.

No matter. He'd been waiting for a line like that to come to him. Pausing in his now-languid jog out to the school track, he pulled a pen from the pocket of his P.E. shorts, scrawling the words down on his upper arm.

Rath stared at it for a moment: at the thin jagged black lines crisscrossing his fair skin. Then he allowed the corners of his mouth to tug up into a wane smile.

You could lose yourself in it.

:n:

Rune sat on the edge of his seat, irritation and tension flowing through him. He was hearing his teacher's voice as a mere mumbling drone in the background instead of the sharply clear note it usually was.

He shifted again, unable to remain still for long.

Holding a pencil tightly in his right hand, he stared down at the blank sheet of folder paper that had been taunting him for the past half-hour, since his arrival at school at seven that morning.

Unable to stand it any longer, he quickly wrote down his name and the date in the upper right hand corner, but found that didn't make it much better.

Now the paper expected to be used, and soon.

He shook his head at that delusional thought.

Maybe if he just made a list of what he wanted...

Rune squashed that idea impatiently.

He knew what he wanted. He wanted something that he could pass off as song lyrics. The melody would come so much faster if he could just scribble down a basic set of lyrics first, and he knew it.

But why, oh why, couldn't he do that?

Mentally hitting himself upside the head, Rune sighed, unaware that the girl seated behind him took any notice of the fact.

Maybe... Maybe if he just started writing... Something, anything...

Apprehensively he touched the tip of his pencil to the paper again, slowly beginning to write.

:n:

"Some pray for an angel, but I..." Rath trailed off, musing to himself as his legs carried him briskly around the school track.

"I pray for a demon."

This wasn't too bad, he thought to himself.

That was one line down, and the morning was just getting started.

The barest inkling of a melody was starting to come to him as well: just a vague rhythm at the moment, but after some serious thought into it...

It looked as though he might actually be able to finish this by the end of the school day.

This was a good thing. A very, very good thing.

The three of them still needed to practice... And now that Rath thought about it, he wasn't sure what they would sound like together. While he was confident that they would be able to blend the instruments together smoothly enough, he realized that he never had ever heard either of the other two sing.

Rath sweatdropped, praying that Rune and Thats could carry a tune.

Well, they should be able to. He couldn't remember hearing that either were tone deaf.

Rounding the curve at one end of the track, Rath let his thoughts die away into the soft pounding crunch of fine gravel under his worn-down sneakers.

He couldn't bear to hope, but it seemed as though they might have a chance: he hoped they did. He wanted it... Wanted the opportunity to do something, to be someone... If only for a moment.

At the same time, however...

Rath kicked a stray rock across the track, sending it bouncing onto the freshly watered grass of the football field it surrounded.

He didn't want to place what he knew was false hope in this dream. It was just a dream, after all... Nothing realistic, and nothing was likely to come of it.

But, a small voice in the back of his mind feebly piped up as Rath quickened his already considerable pace, That didn't mean it was impossible.

He ground suddenly to a halt, a small cloud of dust swirling around his legs and feet.

Rath looked around, noticing that he was the first to be finished. A small smirk twitched at his mouth.

"And now just the melody."

:n:

English was written flowingly down the lines of the paper, and a short struggle with what appeared to be... Spanish? was now ensuing.

What was it?

Rune scowled, annoyed.

There was a phrase that had been tugging belatedly at the sides of his conscious all week long, one that he had once overheard while listening to Thats tardily cram for a Spanish test.

For some reason it had stuck with him, and, while he wasn't too sure of the exact meaning, he had a feeling he would be able to weave it into the song that was lurking in the murky depths of his mind.

Rune barely noticed as the chair behind him squeaked across the floor, its occupant rising and slipping out of the room. If he had paid more attention, Rune might have been almost surprised to note that Lim hadn't bothered to push against his seat or step on his bag.

But not really.

She wasn't supposed to be leaving the classroom, and sneaking out(albeit momentarily) is better done if you don't raise havoc.

:n:

Sabel was waiting outside.

"What are you doing here?" Lim Kaana asked, her high voice almost harsh, "Isn't this one of the few periods you have class?"

"Chorale ended early," he said, obviously smug. "So I thought I'd stop by here and drop this off for you," Sabel continued, holding out a slightly blurry picture, covered by a sheet of paper, "Unless, of course, you no longer want them."

"Don't be stupid."

She snatched them from him, turning slightly red.

"And don't think I want to do this, either. We both know that the pay's the only reason either of us are helping."

Sabel nodded, suddenly serious.

"I know."

He regained some of his annoyingly chipper bounce a moment later, however, and spoke up once again.

"By the way, there's rehearsal tonight from ten thirty on," Sabel informed the smaller girl, "He says for all of us to be there. That includes you, Lim," he continued with a smirk at the soft widening of her hazel eyes.

"What's the matter? Past your bedtime?"

She glared at him, turning her face slightly away and giving him a look that clearly said he wasn't worth her time, regardless of the fact that it was currently being stolen from her class.

"Don't be stupid. I'll be there for sure. And don't call me 'Lim'," she added in, her voice dropping slightly and eyes narrowing further, "The name's 'Lim Kaana', not some stupid shortened version."

"Peh," Sabel rolled his eyes, "I don't see why it matters."

"You wouldn't," she muttered.

"No, I suppose not," he said airily, growing obviously bored with the conversation. "Well, I have places to go, people to bother. My work here is done, now that I've delivered that, and there are little girls who should be sitting in class."

Sabel turned to leave, then stopped, speaking over his shoulder.

"I'll see you tonight, Lim Kaana. You'd better remember."

:n:

"Hey."

Rune jumped, his shirt half on as he turned around.

Rath was leaning casually on the row of P.E. lockers directly opposite from his friend, an almost amused expression on his face at Rune's startled reaction.

"...What do you want?" Rune asked, turning away again in a show of modesty as he pulled his shirt on the rest of the way and began storing his normal clothes in the locker.

"Can you sing?"

"What?" He glanced over his shoulder at Rath. "Of course I can. Why else would I be singing in the band?"

"Just checking," Rath shrugged, inwardly relieved. "What about Thats?"

Rune shrugged as well, closing and securing his locker, and stood.

"I assumed so. Why?"

"What do you mean?" Rath asked, "I wanted to make sure. I never heard either of you."

"Oh."

As Rath started to head for his own locker, needing to get changed himself so he could go to his next class, Rune stopped him.

"Wait! I need to talk to Thats, too. Do you know where he is?"

The black haired boy paused, thinking for a moment.

"No clue. We have class with him at 2:30. You could talk to him then."

Rune shifted, uncomfortable with waiting that long, especially as he had insisted that the others be finished with their rough drafts by then.

"I'd rather speak with him earlier."

"Find him during assembly, then," Rath suggested, glancing at the clock on the wall above a list of sports-related announcements and minor graffiti.

"I have to go. I'm already late, and the Japanese teacher's a bitch."

"W-wait!" Rune called back an impatient Rath, stumbling slightly under his annoyed glare. "One more thing. For the redone song? I wanted to know if you had any ideas. Since you were the one who wanted to do this in the first place..."

Rath sighed, turning around for his locker once more.

"I'll think about it."

:n:

Pyore looked up from her homework, staring at the clock on the wall with brown eyes dulled from boredom.

She was the youngest student in this class, all the others being either juniors or slacking seniors. While they were nice, and while she never exactly felt left out, she would prefer if some of her friends were taking it with her.

She gave a soft sigh, her head reeling from processing so many numbers.

Maybe she should take a break to get a drink... She might run into one of her friends...

Pyore shook her head, giving a determined glare to the writing before her.

No. She would not skip class for no good reason.

A soft blush crept to her cheeks, and left her flustered.

She shook her head.

This was so weird...

:n:

Rath was seated on the dirty ground, black-clad legs crossed.

If one looked closely, they could see the large anime-style sweatdrop that still hovered above his head.

The door a couple down from where he was dropped was his Japanese class... Or it normally was.

"I've got to remember when I have breaks," he muttered to himself, still faintly embarrassed from having walked in to an honors course, mistaking it for his own.

But this was a nice turn of luck.

He finished copying down the writing on his arm to the sheet of folder paper he had ripped out of a binder and placed it on the ground in front of him.

Cupping his chin momentarily in his hand, Rath slowly began to write down another line, continuing the vague train of thought.

He paused, looked at it consideringly, then added a third(or was it fourth?) sentence.

Drumming his fingers on the hard ground to try and recapture the beat he had originally envisioned going along with it, Rath closed his eyes in concentration.

...It was slowly beginning to form.

:n:

A young boy, fourteen at most and small for his age was sitting on the edge of the short rock wall that wound its way about the academy library. A silver Gameboy was in his hands, and they jerked from side to side slightly as he attempted to gain mastery at the new game.

Short green-tipped hair blew in the light breeze, ruffling over his backpack and the thick textbook next to it.

"Hey, Ringleys!"

He looked up, startled and wincing as a computerized scream from the video game signaled the death of his character.

"Oh... Hi," he responded, a little confused.

There was an older girl standing in front of him, grinning broadly and obviously pleased with herself for remembering him.

"You know who I am, right? I was behind you in detention," she continued without any apparent shame.

Ringleys nodded, immediately recalling her name.

"Yeah... You're Kitchel. You're friends with my friend's sister," he said, not quite liking the awkward flow to that statement.

"Cesia, yeah!" Kitchel laughed.

Ringleys suddenly remembered that there had been a message he had been supposed to pass on... Although he still was unable to recall what.

He brushed that aside as she continued speaking.

"You on break? I'm not... I got another minute before I need to get to class, though."

The freshman had nodded at her first question, then asked, "Where're you going?"

"Trig," she made a teasingly disgusted face.

"Really?" Ringleys' large eyes lit up, "I have a friend in there... Are you in regular? Or honors?"

"Regular," Kitchel stole a glance at the Trigonometry Honors book on the ground, "That must be theirs. Who's is it?"

"I don't think you know her..." Ringleys flipped his game off, "Her name's Pyore."

Kitchel's jaw metaphorically dropped in amazement as her eyes widened.

"What! I do know her; she's a sophomore now, right? She came to one of the performances we put on last year. How'd she get into that class?"

She shook her head, still shocked, but a hint of a smile on her face.

"Man. Some people."

:n:

Thats ignored the soothing drone of the teacher in the background. He could catch up on this class later, borrow some notes, or something.

But this he needed to finish.

He had nearly a full page written, although most of that was crossed off.

That morning, while hastily eating breakfast, his mistake had been pointed out to him. Not by his younger brother who had had to sprint to catch up with the leaving school bus, but by his father.

The aging man, white haired, but still tall and clear-eyed, had inquired to what he was working on.

Thats had always found him strangely easy to talk to, even more so when he needed advice.

The help invariably tended to be good, as well. Working as a bartender seemed to have made him into a jack-of-all-trades, and he knew everything.

After being shown the sheet of rough music, he had pointed out that Thats wouldn't be able to write traditional lyrics to it, as the beat and rhythm jumped around so much. Not that this was bad, he had continued, but definitely unusual, and would force the words to change midstream as well.

Thats had been delighted to realize that he would be able to justify sticking in a stream of nonsense... Only to find himself now sitting in class and struggling to keep it from turning into a pile of nonsensical garble.

It had the potential to sound amazing, as he already knew, but if the words were wrong... Instead of sounding whimsical, it would simply turn out stupid.

He muttered under his breath, scratching off another line and substituting an alternative.

While none of this had been his idea, it was Rath's dream, his current fueling inspiration, and Thats didn't want to be the one to screw it up.

:n:

It was several classes and a break for lunch later when Rune ran across Thats.

Literally ran across, as both of them were in the midst of scurrying off to class.

"Wait, Thats!" The blonde boy called, realizing belatedly that his friend had just hurried by him. "I need to ask you something!"

Thats stopped impatiently waiting and taking the opportunity to shove the folder he was holding in his arms into his bag.

"Is this about the music? I thought you said we needed to be done by the end of the day!"

"No... Yes... Wait," Rune panted lightly, catching his breath from pushing hurriedly through the crowded hallway. "It is about the music, but not your song. I need help, Thats."

The tanned junior shot his friend a startled look, seemingly unaware that Rune would ever need his help with this sort of thing.

"Mine? Why?"

Rune grinned embarrassedly, a light blush creeping up his face.

"When you were cramming for your last Spanish test, there was one phrase you reviewed... I really liked it, but I can't remember what it was exactly. I was hoping you would know..."

"Wait," Thats shook his head in disbelief, "You expect me to remember that? That was a month ago, Rune! I'm sure I still know the line, but I don't know what it was off hand. Hell," he continued, "I don't even remember you being there when I was studying. Besides, I've got to get ta class. What about I bring my textbook back to rehearsal? You can look it up then."

Rune nodded grudgingly.

Of course the other wouldn't have remembered the exact line, especially when he had nothing to go off of, just a vague note that it was somewhere in his textbook.

Guilt edged into his thoughts, and Rune admitted, "That will be fine, Thats. It's just that... I wanted to build around it for my solo. I... I'm sorry, but if I don't have it..."

"Then you'll write a group number," Thats cut him off impatiently, noting the quick emptying of the hall, "We're late for class."

Rune's face lit up as he realized that there was something productive he could do instead, then a look of horror hit him as he realized that his friend was right, and he was supposed to be in his classroom two buildings over about a minute ago.

"Great," Rune moaned, and sprinted off.

He didn't want to be late.

More so than usual, he didn't want to be late.

As Rune slid into his classroom, right before the teacher closed the door on the trickle of students, that thought was ringing in his mind.

He smoothed down his shirt, wiping beads of sweat off his forehead, and took a seat next to an old friend in the very front of the class.

:n:

"'I Hate Everything About You.'"

Rune stared at Rath, trying to remember what they had last been talking about that could make him say something like that to him.

"Well, that's polite," Thats remarked, dropping into a seat behind the other two for their last class of the day.

Rath scowled, dark eyes glaring at his friends behind his black bangs.

"It's a song. Rune asked me to think of one that we should play."

"Oh," the blonde junior relaxed, their conversation clicking into place, "Right. You want to use that one?"

Rath nodded, and Thats added in, "Not bad. It's not too hard, though it'll still be a challenge."

He paused, then glanced at his friend, "You're singing."

Rath was about to agree, then suddenly switched gears.

"Hey, can you even carry a tune?"

Thats looked faintly insulted.

"What? Of course I can. I'd just rather not have to bother learning the vocals," he defended himself, "Besides, the song was your choice, so you should get the glory of the lead."

"And the fans," Rune added in in a random teasing note.

"Oh!" Rune spoke up again, "I'm sorry, Rath, Thats. I haven't finished yet," he turned bright red as the other two sent him highly annoyed stares, "But I'm close! I'll look over yours' here, then finish mine on the bus."

"You're not giving us a ride?" Rath asked curiously.

He shook his head.

"I wanted to talk to someone on the bus."

Thats and Rath glanced at each other, then at their friend, obviously struggling to prevent himself from flushing brighter.

"Wait--" Rath was cut off as their teacher entered the room, and instead quickly handed Rune his crumpled sheet of paper, watching Thats do the same.

Whatever it was, he consoled himself, He would be able to find out in an hour.

Besides... Rath glanced at Rune, now a furious red and sending a deadly glare to where their third friend was sitting innocently and scratching out what looked suspiciously like a heart around two names on the paper Thats had handed him. ...He had a feeling that all three of them knew what was going to happen.

:n:

"You going to ask her out?"

"What are you talking about, Thats?" Rune responded calmly, using all of his energy to avoid actually thinking about that question and turning a light shade of pink.

He handed back the rough drafts of the song lyrics to his two friends, passing Rath his own hurriedly finished piece as well.

"Can you both look over that for me?It's a group piece for us."

Rath nodded, then hoisted up his backpack, skimming the paper given to him.

As the three passed out of the classroom, Rune suddenly stopped in his tracks, spinning around.

"Hold on. I left my pencil case on the desk."

Snatching it up, he was about to walk back to his friends waiting somewhat impatiently in the crowded hallway when he overheard a snatch of female conversation.

"Come on, Tintlett," a voice laughed, "I bet Cesia's already waiting for us. If we don't run over there, she'll probably leave without us!"

Tintlett giggled as well, continuing the lightheartedly teasing conversation.

"Of course she will! Remember last summer when we came late and she threatened to leave us at the theater?"

"Yeah," Kitchel finished gathering up her school supplies, spotting their classmate behind them. "Oh, hey, Rune."

Rune paused, one foot about to lift off the ground in another step.

Forcing himself to remain calm, he offered a brief response, then sent an innocently questioning glance at the two girls.

"You're not catching the bus today?"

He watched as Tintlett shook her head, golden tresses bouncing.

"Nope," her friend spoke up, "Ces' is giving us a ride to her place. We're gonna party in honor of our finished science project!"

As great as the disappointment and shock he felt was, Rune was ashamed when a small part of him spoke up in great sincere relief.

He could do this later...

It wasn't his fault... He thought furiously to himself as he left the room.

He'd just have to find another time to speak to her.

:n:

A/N: And school starts up again. Today, actually, is my second day of 10th grade. Wh00t, no longer a little freshman! n-n

:n:

FireyFlames: n-n Thanks:roasts marshmallow over name:

Kat:meeps and ducks glare: No. I'm not. I'm still gonna use it. :shifty eyes: Because that dude sounds eerily like Rath, we have agreed, and it is "T3H C0R3!1!" RxC song. n-n; ...Damn, I shouldn't have put it like that. Now there are horny annoyed people muttering at me about the use of 1337 in a non-"T3H S3X!1!" way. XD

Peophin-chan: Really? No, I don't think you did... That seems to happen a lot, though. :ponders: Like weed, this is a gateway drug... Fic... Whatever...

Hououza:sweatdrop: Uh... Here. :pulls out Tintlett: Ask her for yourself. n-n; (Tintlett:confused:) Thanks for the luck/wishes, as always!

RandomRathFan: Oh, of course they will. Not much of a plot if they don't. ...Mind, how well they actually do is another story entirely... :insane laugh:

Ojosnegro: I REMEMBER HOW TO CONJUGATE SPANISH VERBS:highly pleased: And... Um... Yeah! Go you! Now just to read the others!

Ellabel:accepts ice cream readily: SO hot over here... X.x Well, not that I want something else bad to be happening to you, but I hope this update came at a good time?

Yume-chan29: Hmmm... Well, it's looking better for them and their finishing? And it's her hobby. XD I mean, rather hard to use wind magic in this AU... ...And Kuon Sheena... Umm...

Cairnsy: Of course there's nothing wrong with fangirlism... So long as you don't start angrily going off on rampages when your character dies. :glances at 12 and edges away nervously: ...Mind, I wouldn't blame you. XD

Sage: Gah... I don't like cherries, so I've switched it out for a strawberry, okay? n.n Updated!

Reki-kun: ...Four am? ...Wow... I didn't realize someone would want to stay up reading this... ...Did you know that the stupid pigeons wake up and start cooing at five thirty? Gah... -.-;

:n:

Dance... For the reviews love you.


End file.
